Sturm and Drang
by Zen Monk
Summary: For Akihiko, Mitsuru, and Shinjiro, their fateful meeting is one filled with all kinds of events. What they felt for each other, what it feels like to be SEES, is itself as hard to predict as a lightning storm. Ch. 8 up, "Babel Part 2
1. Pulse

11/3/08 (OMG, the day before election day) EDIT: So I finally got around to editting this. It now hit me that I need to make a first impression, and constantly swapping present and past tense is actually turning off people. So, now I fixed it and it will be more fluid than it was on the first try.

Sturm und Drang

by Zen Monk

It was a pulse.

The roar of the audience became the white noise behind the steady rhythmic footwork of the two fighting. Despite the screeching of easily aroused girls, in spirit and in body, despite the clamor of the boys in opposing sides wishing for the annihilation of the other's chosen fighter, and despite the hollers of their coaches getting caught up in the moment and urging for their boy to pummel the other, all they could hear was the grievous panting of their breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Rivets of sweat from the peaks of their heads rolling down over their faces, into their eyes, and collecting in the curves of their necks. The dripping fluids damp their headgear around the temples, moistening the waistbands of their shorts, and made the inside material of their gloves stick to their clenched hands.

Only the two duking it out in the ring could feel the affects of their velocity. The rest were merely placing themselves in their shoes by wanting to beat a common enemy. Rivals. All swarming together in that heart-breaking pulse.

It only takes an outsider of all this to make a careful, objective view. She does not partake in the frenzy of modern maenads of both sexes wanting to see things torn limb from limb, even though they do not think it that way (but those are when such feelings are born). School spirit held no place in those wanting to lord them all. Secretly, covertly. It was always the people who work in the shadows inside the dark places within the dark hours that held the strings over a population's fate and the protection of an individual's mortality.

Instead of placing herself in the shoes of her school's top boxer, she placed herself outside of the ring, up front and center so she can see his technique and character. Unlike everyone who paid more attention on the fists colliding against their rival's torso and face, she saw the recoil of the boxer's arms, the steadiness of his gaze no matter where his neck turned or when he had to sidestep or duck. She focused on his mouth and the shape of his lips, tightened in a thin line which didn't curl into a sneer or grimaced into a jeer like the rival did. She heard the whistle of his jabs and the solid thumping of connected fist to torso; she felt his grunts when he was struck and chewed the inside of her mouth when his stomach caved in as he doubled over.

She was an outsider who knew nothing of sports, at least, the kind that looks like one must do everything to survive aside from bending the rules. What she knew was that there was always an action and a reaction. If there was a thrust, you must parry; and when there was an opening, you must stab for the point. But this, this was a fight when both fighters are hit but the game doesn't end over from a single strike. A math when even the audience participated as they screamed in jubilation or flinched in surprise. She witnessed all this, the feelings of the audience and the personalities of the boxers, with cold eyes and a calculating mind that could think of at least three things at the same time.

But even she was swept up in a pulse of her own.

It was in the moment when he happened to glance in her direction. The boxer ducked underneath punch, and as he recoiled for a counterstrike, his head turned in her direction and she saw his eyes. Dark, tumultuous, and grey as thunderclouds between the rolling of thunder and when lightening struck. All this energy contained in the concentrated body of this boy, that through this brief glimpse of his heart, she found her own pumping madly.

Everyone went mad when it was all over. Home team and rival school alike roared in exultation at the finishing of the bout. The rival was knocked flat on his back and the reigning champ stood, his arms dropped and slightly bent in readiness should his opponent continue to rise. The countdown finished, and he heaved a deep sigh. He went back to his corner, plucked off his headgear and rested his head against the post, his coach giving laudations and his teammates stopping the hoards of fans screaming their appreciations at the boxer. He gave no attention to them as he slipped between the ropes and headed for the locker room. The last she'd seen of him after that match was his straight back, still slightly damp from sweat, and the slight bumps of his spine near the back of his neck.

She left the ring still not quite understanding the young man she had seen, nor the study of the sweet science, but she did understand the feelings of the audience, even if it was only a glimpse of it. They saw it through the boxer's actions and the reactions he made the rival carry out; she saw it all through his eyes, the potential of him as a man as much as the potential of him as a persona-user just as the Chairman said he would have. She felt it through his dignity of his straight back and from the electric tingle that spread from her fingers, to the back of her neck and making the hairs rise in attendance, down her spine to the tips of her toes.

She felt the energy he expelled in the atmosphere, having never experienced it before, and knew, impulsively, that she wanted his strength in her own hidden battles in a hidden world, behind dark shadows during dark hours, all for the fragility of an individual's heart and mind.

She sat on the bench until everyone had gone, left with their excited conversations until they become echoes against the walls. Then she stood up. She walked tediously through scattered litter, breathing deeply but couldn't get herself to calm down, just barely containing the urge to move unnecessarily. She tightened her arms wrapped around herself, keeping herself together, and walked through the double doors from the arena. Her heels clacked against cold floors and compared the rhythmic steps to the heightened heartbeat in her ears.

Everything had changed after that match between two young men in a fight between the extents of their limits. She would no longer be alone in the cold, and he will be given a purpose for his right to live.

* * *

In my defense, I was thinking a lot of T. S. Eliot and de Chirico while I was writing this. Hopefully everything above didn't go above your heads. So this is my second attempt at fiction writing, and this time it will be the epic-ness of how the three original SEES came about and the shaky feelings of being in control, losing control, and the swirling mass of emotions that person can take. The title Sturm und Drang means "Storm and Stress" in German, as well as other similar meanings, and I want to use that as a theme for each of the persona-users. I mean, Akihiko and Mitsuru uses lightening and ice respectively, and those elements are in "storms" (ha ha), and Shinjiro is, to me, the swelling of basic human emotions. To humanize it all, I guess.

Well, this is my take, and I hope this preface is tantalizing to the readers. Expect more from me soon!


	2. The Ripples of Unrest

The Ripples of Unrest

The humid atmosphere of the boys' locker room was teemed with steam, sweat, mildew, jubilant laughter, and raucous chatter. It was aglow with victory and the young men bathed in it, under the showerheads caked with calcium and in a room with puddles that trailed behind feet. Akihiko let himself join in the merrymaking so that he could quietly get out. He accepted the hearty pats on the back and the shout-outs from across the room as he headed towards the showers to wash away any residue of his last match, and contributed a bit in the conversations here and there while he changed into his school uniform. It was only enough so that he could be amongst the first out the double doors with about as minimal protest from his teammates for him to wait up as he could manage. Once he was out, he could breathe.

The slightly chilly air was crisp and clear and he filled his lungs with it. He breathed in the sense of accomplishment of trouncing the rival school's boxing captain, and sighed out the flat feeling of shoes walking in an empty hallway. Thankfully, there were no screaming girls lurking in the vicinity to extol their appreciation of him, thinking that maybe both he and they somehow missed each other.

He turned the corner heading towards the school main gate and walked right into a smart gathering of school girls.

The collective gasp was like the blaring headlights that blinded the deer before his demise.

He didn't hold back, he let loose all available ammunition at his disposal. He gave a small smile as they circled around him, cornering him and trapping him. He graciously received their adulations, but at every effort to move away from his spot, they moved with him so he felt like he was on a treadmill with a rotating background that's sometimes seen in amusement parks. He made excuses, such as "I'll be late for my bus" and "I'm kind of tired from my fight, so I really had to go," but to no avail were his protests heeded as they bombard him with questions and comments amidst squealing and chatter. He could feel the pressure slowly building on his head and the tension forming on temples. He really needed to leave, and he cursed his passiveness at the idea of being rough to the fairer sex.

"Heeyyyyyy… Akihiko-senpai!" The lone male voice was a beacon through the high pitch cacophony, one which Akihiko's ears gratefully latched on to. Diving through the car wreck that makes up the crowd of excited girls, the owner of the voice grabbed onto Akihiko's wrist and fished him out, making them walk briskly away from the group and out the school gates.

"If you don't hurry, you'll be late for the bus, _right_ senpai?" Akihiko got a good look at the boy, but from the jovial tone of his voice, he knew that it was none other than underclassman and fellow boxing teammate Hiro Yamato. Hiro let go of his senpai and both relaxed into a calm stroll on the sidewalk.

"Thanks, Hiro. I don't think I could last much longer with them. I was pretty close to snapping."

"No problem. It would be big trouble for the team if those people start, I don't know, _mauling_ you or tearing at your clothes in ecstasy. How would it look to all of us if our champ was bested by happy girls?" Akihiko scoffed, rolling off the joke like a wind blowing through tree branches.

"But in all seriousness, though. It did look like torture back there. I can tell you this, the only guys who are jealous of the attention you're getting are the knuckleheads. All those blows to the head knocked out their required brain cells to process danger."

They chatted amiably, with Hiro doing most of the talking, up the hills and crossing streets. They past by men in three-piece suits with their minds firmly on their wristwatches, and paused for preschoolers playing in their path. Hiro was known to many as a very friendly person who seems to have an infallible ability to talk just about anything and nothing with anyone, despite their seniority or what should be the proper act of address to an adult. He is frank and doesn't pretend to be anyone otherwise. Since his induction at middle school, his classmates and anyone whom he shares remote affiliation to have either love-hate opinions on him. His personality, which also revealed his flaws and weaknesses, while sometimes refreshing, is a grievous faux pas to anyone who doesn't like to be reminded that they too share the same annoying traits as this person. Some people can claim outright that they hate him because they don't really find anything about him to hate except himself.

They arrived at the bus stop and loitered around the bench waiting for their chariot to arrive. Akihiko sat patiently while Hiro leaned against the bus pole, checking the time with his cell and texting in silence.

"Hey, Akihiko-san," he said after a great deal of silence. "I just realized that I don't really have your cell phone number in my address book."

"I don't have one," replied Akihiko. "And besides, why do you want my phone number to begin with?"

"In case if there's an emergency," exclaimed Hiro like it was the most obvious reason in the world. "What if for whatever reason you're not here for practice and everyone's all 'Where's Sanada? Where's Sanada? Did something happen?' And the next thing you know, it's the next day and you showed up bleeding all over the carpet because some crazy stalker jumped you."

Akihiko glanced at Hiro incredulously. "You've got some imagination, Hiro. Like I'd let anyone hurt me or make me late for practice. Even if I did get a cell phone, I wouldn't give my number to just anybody. I don't want to get weird text messages or something."

"Aw… but I was going to show you dumb videos," pouted Hiro. "Why can't you get a cell phone?"

"Too expensive for me. I've gotten through almost fifteen years of my life without one, and I still don't see the use in me having one now."

"Are you kidding? It's so useful! Like, take my phone for instance. I got it because my mom wants to check up on me and makes sure that I don't get lost or something, since I'm a flaky kind of guy. Then she starts calling me during all hours of the day, and even during school. It drives me nuts! And it drives my teacher nuts, too, because I always have to answer my phone whenever it's mom calling, because if I don't respond she'll get on my case about it when I get home. So I can't answer the phone because it gets me trouble with my teachers, and I can't not answer the phone because my mom would kill me if I don't. Such a Catch-22," he sighed.

"…So how's a cell phone useful, again?"

"I just told you! It's so that I can let people know what I'm doing and not worry them. What if there's an earthquake and I'm trapped under rubble? Who'll know that I'm trapped under rubble, with my arms broken and my innards caving?"

Akihiko was going to ask how he's going to contact anyone when trapped under rubble and with various degrees of dire injury, but he doesn't so he's going to let it go and nod in agreement.

"Oh yeah, Akihiko-san. Were you in a bad mood or something today?"

Akihiko stared at Hiro questioningly. "Did I do something back there or what?"

Hiro shrugged. "No, it's just… recently you seem kind of aloof. You don't always joke around like you sometimes do or that you're not… zippy." He made a vague gesture with his hands.

"Zippy?" Akihiko repeated distastefully.

"Like, you win, you get a high, and you feel like it's the best day ever," explained Hiro. "Nowadays, you're kinda like… meh?" He made a so-so gesture with his hand. "What, did you not get a good score with your high school entrance exams or something? I hear those could make people crack under pressure. Good thing I'm not a 9th grader."

"No, I scored high enough to get into all the schools I wanted. The ones that have great boxing programs."

Hiro whistled low. "Wow, great job Senpai. An achiever in both books and boxing. So then, what's up?"

Akihiko sighed, mulling over what to say to him. He hoped that his mood went unnoticed by the team, but if someone like Hiro picked up on it, who else had known? But, even he couldn't quite put it under his finger as to why he doesn't always feel elated whenever he overcame another hurdle in boxing, whenever he would advance up another step in the ladder of a student athlete. He had thought it over during lectures and rolled it around in his mind on his way to practice or when walking away from school back to the dorm. He sometimes talked about it to Shinji, who did notice in the beginning, but even his longtime best friend's given examples could satisfy what the cause could be for this swirling, moving feeling that rests between his heart and stomach.

That was it.

He was not satisfied.

His life was on a track that didn't feel right for him, like somehow he missed something essential to his life. All that a normal teenager has strived for is already attained: the top boxer in his school, perfectly capable of beating even high school students; academic excellence; the enviable, horrifying way he attracts girls to his side. Aside from that hungry feeling for having a real family, he thinks he's capable of coping with being a ward of the state without much of the emotional problems that long-time orphans sometimes have. At least Shinji will be there for him, who may as well be family.

He has a respectable identity that he can live with.

But he needs more to live for.

The very reason why he wants to be the best in anything, whether it is at school, in the ring, or the various challenges that society and life forced onto him. He had promised so hard when he was a child to be strong, stronger than anybody, strong enough to protect the people that matter most. Strong enough so that he could fight off anyone who locked their hands on his shoulders and pulling him away from the person who needed him the most.

It was a strong, vague idea, like an epiphany, that led him to this way of life. It was as diaphanous as dark clouds and powerful enough to drive him. But the brief glimpse of his goal was as clear as the murky feelings of unrest inside him. No answer was provided to calm him, just as there was no answer as to what he should be strong enough for. For now, he was at the apex of his potential, with no ladder to climb higher and his sights focused back down on the steps that led him to this position.

Hiro waved a hand in front of Akihiko's face, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Earth to Senpai. You ok?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Good. So then, back to earlier: _are_ you ok?"

"…I'm fine."

Hiro looked doubtful. "Okaaay, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm always available. But it's fine if you don't need to."

"Thanks for the offer."

Hiro looked behind him at the sound of engines, and stuffed his hand into his backpack for his wallet as the bus came rumbling to the bus stop. Both he and Akihiko sat in the middle of the bus, with Akihiko looking out the window and Hiro whiling away the miles by texting. Akihiko stared dumbly out the window, thinking of many things and of nothing, and when he saw a vibrant red shirt flapping on a clothes line in someone's terrace, he thought he saw something similar earlier today but that memory became just another blurred image in his head.

There was a sudden screeching of the brakes, and the force of the stop shoved the two boys forward into the back of the chairs in front of them. Hiro cursed and rubbed his forehead tenderly, and exclaimed, "What happened? An accident?"

Hiro leaned his head out into the aisle, and other passengers craned their necks towards the large windshield to look for the source of the sudden stopping.

"Crap!" cursed the driver. "Crazy kid- is he drunk or something?!"

Akihiko raised himself up from his seat a little, and saw a partial body of someone standing in the middle of the road, looking up at the sky without a care in the world. He scowled. Something wasn't right with that kid. His arms dangled on his sides like limp noodles and his knees bent awkwardly together, as though his subconscious body was making an extreme attempt to feebly stand up. The driver honked his horn, but to no avail. The cars behind the bus turned and passed by the large vehicle, slowing down so they, too, could see the source of the obstruction.

"Hey," said Hiro. "That looks like Apathy Syndrome. My neighbor's kid has it, too, and he looks just like that guy over there."

Hiro settled back down into his seat and sighed.

"Guess this is the world we live in," he remarked as he texted his mother. "People just suddenly stop in the middle of the street and lost their minds."

Akihiko said nothing and looked out of the window. It was a quiet, late afternoon, with a mostly clear sky with a smattering of clouds. Birds chirped, and people walk on the sidewalk with appointments, friends, meetings and nothing on their minds.

And in all this peace, there was a ripple of unrest in this feeble, shell of a person blocking the road.

* * *

…You know, looking back at all this right now, I wonder if I made Akihiko too OOC. Like he's depressed or too thoughtful or something. Not that I don't think he's thoughtful, but I'm sure he's not the person who thinks that a business man has a wristwatch in his mind. This is my first OC with speaking lines, and I assure you all that he's only a plot device with little merit as a whole except as a person Akihiko can talk to and who's there in one point in the plot. His character came from when I was reading Catch-22 just recently. So many paradoxes… I do kind of take care to add a certain motif in my descriptions that are relevant to the characters, like symbolically, so I hope that it's somewhat noticed. At least that there's a certain theme in the chapters… So, please judge me harshly and give constructive criticism. Shinji will come up next chapter. And mentions of Mitsuru.

Ciao!

P. S. I'm thinking of having the service of a beta. Can any recommend me one?


	3. The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

_Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,_

_I have measured out my life with coffee spoons._

-By T. S. Eliot, _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_

* * *

Night has fallen when the bus screeched to a halt. Akihiko and Hiro gave their thanks to the driver before they hopped off, and the bus roared clumsily back on its route. The distant roar of the highway was dimly heard among the orchestra of cold insects as the two boys walked in the inner workings of the suburbs and in the area where their school dorms were. They walked through the glass doors of their own dorm, welcomed by the cheery, yellow ceiling lights and by the reckless chatter of their dorm mates. Hiro was pulled away by his friends' greetings, giving a brief "see you later, Senpai!" and Akihiko made headway up the stairs to his own room.

From the common room, the rec room, and the passersby in hallways and from the open doorways of other rooms, Akihiko's ears were bombarded with congratulations from his last match and by gasped laudations from awestruck underclassmen. He paid them no mind, wanting to just dump his stuff in his room, his _quiet, private_ room, and head down to the cafeteria for dinner. He closed the door behind him, leaned his school bag against the desk and dumped his gym bag at the foot of his bed.

"Congrats on your match," said a voice from the top bunk bed.

Akihiko closed his eyes and sighed. "Thanks," he replied dejectedly.

Shinjiro looked over the edge of the bed down at his friend, who sat heavily on the lower bunk. He put aside his magazine and leaned his head over the edge.

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine. Usually you'd be smirking around the dorm like some prick after your team won a match, and that win was because of you."

Akihiko leaned back to rest his head against the wall, resting his eyes in the shade of the top bunk.

"…You're the second person in this whole day to ask about my win. Yeah, I guess I should be happy, but," he paused, frowning; "I just can't bring myself to feel, I don't know, zippy or something."

Shinjiro scowled at the word choice. "Zippy?"

"Hiro's word, not mine."

"Oh, that guy." Shinjiro leaned back on his pillow and unfolded his magazine to the article he had been reading. "He's got a huge yap on him. He's going to get slugged, one of these days, since he can't control that yap of his."

"He's an okay guy," shrugged Akihiko. "But I can see what you mean. He can get pretty confusing."

"His existence is a confusion," retorts Shinjiro playfully. "So…Care to share your thoughts?"

Akihiko laid down fully on his bed, his arm covering his eyes. "Since when are you my shrink?"

"Since I became your manager," replied Shinjiro. "Gotta look out for the well-being of my cash cow, I mean, my _client_. How would it look on me if your performance fails? I would deny ever knowing you."

Akihiko scoffed good-naturedly. "And when was the last time I failed? Never. And what do you mean by 'cash cow?' You're making money off me?"

"That _is_ how I'm able to treat ramen at Hagakure with you," answered Shinjiro.

"And some manager you are! You never came to my matches ever since my third win of the school year. And the only time you sort of came was when I was up against that dirtbag Imadori from the next school district."

"That's because everyone knows that he beats up people on the streets, _and _that he cheats in his ring. It's a lot more interesting to see you get creamed than to watch you KO some amateur from another school."

"You and your street fights, Shinji. They don't mean much in the rules of boxing."

"And you're satisfied with that?"

Akihiko said nothing. Shinjiro sighed and rose from his bed. He climbed down the ladder and pulled on his boots.

"I already know what your problem is, Aki. You got all that strength and all you can do right now is knock down the small fries. Everyone knows that our school is the top contender in the upcoming finals and that we're expected to win. All because of you," he added. Shinjiro picked up his school coat that was hanging from his chair and shrugged it on. "You're even better than the school captain, so there's no one who stands equal to you. Except for me, that is. And the whole situation annoys the heck out of you."

Akihiko rose to a sitting position and sat on the edge of his bed.

"You could've joined the boxing team with me, Shinji," he pointed out. "Then we could both get stronger and build each other up as we go."

"No thanks. I do things my way, and my way doesn't involve fighting amateurs in pretend fights. Now come on. Let's go get ramen in Hagakure."

Akihiko got up and pulled on his coat. He grabbed his wallet from his school bag and headed out the door after Shinji.

"Yep. I'm stuck in a rut all right. I really need something to get out of it instead of just doing extra training at the gym."

Shinjiro held open the double glass doors for him and Akihiko and they both walked off in the cold winter night towards the nearby train station.

"Well, there's that city-wide championship to look forward to. And then high school; you'll be up against the big boys at last, Aki."

There was no need to ask questions in front of Shinjiro Aragaki. He made up his lack of involvement with other people with his astute observation of people's involvement with each other. His only known affiliation is his childhood friend Akihiko, whom being both orphans of roughly the same age when they were first inducted in the orphanage, may as well be brothers. He, Akihiko, and Akihiko's late sister Miki are family when no other family would take all three of them. And when the three siblings were reduced to two, the boys vowed on that cold, winter morning to be strong enough to not let anyone, not death, not authority, and not circumstances, to tear their status as a family apart.

* * *

The night was cold and the stars were in the sky. The city wasn't quite big enough to obscure the heavens with boisterous city lights. There were women who came and go, vaguely talking about the Michelangelo gallery that just came to an art museum, pedestrians of various sizes and coat colors crowded the train station and the roads were just finishing their minor rush hour back from the busy life of Iwatodai. Everything was straight-forward when Akihiko was with Shinjiro and life went back to simpler, organized standards.

Akihiko and Shinjiro talked and laughed about minor things, and the things that lurked inside Akihiko crawled in their cubby holes in a thin sleep, sometimes twitching, sometimes still moving.

It was a question that went unspoken that Akihiko didn't know, but felt it there and it wanted release. The type of question that supercedes the why's and when's to the top of the podium.

They walked through the turnstiles after depositing their tokens and bought their tickets. The train pulled up and, as they stepped inside, the question raised its head again.

It is the 'how' type of question that needs to be spoken and avoided.

* * *

"Here you go boys!"

Two steaming bowls of the house specials were placed on the counter and the boys eagerly snapped their chopsticks and dug in. Between slurps and sips of soup from the large spoon, Akihiko had another nagging feeling, like there was something else to be checked marked off the list.

"Oh yeah. I got that interview for Gekkoukan High School tomorrow," he remarked out loud.

Shinjiro stopped eating and drank his glass of water.

"Gekkoukan? You mean that fancy high school on Port Island? I hear that all the students there are a bunch of rich pricks."

Akihiko gave an admitting roll of the eyes. "Yeah… but I know that their boxing program is one of the best. I'm really hoping that maybe I'll get a scholarship there, or something."

"You and your boxing," Shinji shook his head. "Well Richie Rich, how the hell are you going to pay to go to a recently established private school which includes living expenses? Become a sell-out and fight in the streets for money? Maybe you could honey up with Kirijos to let them admit you into their school? Even with a scholarship, and maybe a part-time job, it's barely enough to cover all three years of tuition and board. Don't even think about the other expenses."

Akihiko shrugged. "Just trying to cover my bases. I have my sights set on other schools, but it would be great if I got into Gekkoukan. I want to reach the very best that this city has to offer."

Shinjiro then snickered. "You know, maybe you could get accepted if you butter up the interviewer a bit. Paint yourself as one of those Cinderella boxing stories of how this rising star was once living in underprivileged circumstances, and orphaned- you gotta mention that you're an orphan- and is now an honor student and an excellent athlete. Yeah, they'd eat up that shit."

Akihiko gave Shinjiro a playful shove. "Hey, knock it off, Shinji. I don't want people to pity me."

Shinjiro couldn't resist the jibe. "I pity the fool-"

Akihiko groaned. "Hey, quit it!"

"-who pities the great Akihiko Sanada. Hey, you forced me to watch the _Rocky_ movies. I gotta get back at you for torturing me one of these days."

"The movies were great-"

"You _made_ me buy you eggs, so that you can drink _five_ of them in a glass," exclaimed Shinji, his lips curled in disgust, shaking his head. "Then, you went and got food poisoning and had to stay in the bathroom all day, _skipping_ school. You made me copy down notes for you and tell _everybody_ what the hell happened to you, which I explained in graphic detail. You're going to get yours one of these days."

"I know, I'm sorry. And I really appreciated what you did for me." Akihiko polished off his noodles and waited for Shinji to finish his. He felt the worries of the day melt away and felt for the moment that right now his life is okay and without a need for improvement. He sometimes felt that none of the other guys on the boxing team really know where Akihiko was coming from, as they all have families and a normal home. But, as he blinked to remind himself, he shouldn't try to force everyone to understand him. Sometimes it's fine just to be with friends without having to relate _everything_ with them.

Shinjiro set down his bowl with a contented sigh and fished for money in his wallet. Akihiko did likewise and counted the bills to pay for their dinner. They received their checks, hopped down from the barstools, and sauntered out of the restaurant, their cheeks pinched in the sudden cold after staying in the gregarious warmth of the ramen restaurant.

Some fog had rolled in from the bay, making the air damp and obscuring the waxing gibbous moon; the lights from the city reflected from the water in the air, giving the sky a luminous, glowing look. The two boys stepped inside the train car, the fluorescent milking their skin and highlighting the hollows of their faces. They sat together on hard, the hard, flatly cushioned seats and slightly braced themselves against the small turns that jerked the car around.

Akihiko rested his head on the back of his seat, feeling slightly drained from the activities of the day and wondering what to expect on his interview with the representative from Gekkoukan. He closed his eyes and thought of his decisions. Soon those decisions became indecisions and the visions became revisions. There is time to think them all, so he went on thinking of his future where he knows his decision and which it would become his vision, and then… then the time would come when his efforts would be rewarded.

"Hey Aki, I just remembered something."

"What's up?"

Shinjiro sat up straight and reached inside his pockets, looking for something. "I got a letter from the headmistress of the orphanage."

"Really?" Akihiko sat straight in attention, intrigued. "What's it about?" This was their first year living in a dorm, part of gradually pulling away from the dependency of the orphanage staff, though still considered as their wards.

Shinjiro unfolded the letter, smoothing out the deep creases with his knee. "It's about when we're graduating from middle school. They want to hold a shindig for the kids graduating, like you and me." He gave Akihiko the letter, letting him examine the details in full. Shinjiro leaned back in contemplation.

"It's been a while since we were there," he remarked.

"Yeah…" trailed Akihiko, having finished reading the letter. "Remember Ms. Yomi? One of the caretakers? I kind of missed seeing her, since she's always got on our case whenever we played in the streets all day. Those were fun times."

"I heard she got hitched," replied Shinjiro. "I guess we'll have to call her by her married name if we get to see her. Well, I guess it's something to look forward to when we graduate, aside from high school."

Akihiko just got a nagging feeling just now, like a worm stirring in the back of his mind.

"Are you planning to attend high school, Shinji?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"…Maybe."

Akihiko placed his arm on the back of his seat to face his friend fully. "What, you're thinking of just leaving school at middle school? Like going straight to the workforce?"

Shinjiro sighed. "Well, it's not like getting into a fancy schmancy private school is a feasible option for us. Even just a regular high school might be problematic… And we're not required to attend high school, so I'm thinking practically."

Akihiko looked away, stumped. He could see the reasoning, but found it hard to accept such an option. He knew that Shinjiro can reach far if he put extended effort into it, and to him high school was like the beginning of starting a life. It meant more opportunities to explore, obtaining better job options, maybe even open the door to college. And more personally, it's to see how much he'll develop as a person. It perturbs him to see someone just stop at where he is, not going forward anymore.

Shinjiro looked at Akihiko critically, taking in his slumped form and barely contained composure. He gave him a jesting nudge, startling Akihiko.

"Relax, pansy. I ain't going to stop now. Imagining you going at life all by yourself is a scary image. It'll be a hoot, but it's going to be annoying when things get tough and you come crying to me every time something doesn't go your way."

"Tch, whatever!" scoffed Akihiko. However, his profile visibly relaxed.

"If anything, you're going to try and mooch money off me so you can buy those stupid protein shit you keep stuffing. Makes me want to up-chuck every time I see you eating those things."

"Those are great for body building," retorted Akihiko. "I'm getting all my nutrients from those things."

"So does real food, dumbass. I don't see shit bars on the food pyramid."

"All right, then. Show me what you think is real food, and I don't mean at restaurants or a grocery store. How about you fire up the ovens in the Home Ec room? I bet it's easy for you, since you can just scare your way into getting a space, since the girls think you're some sort of yakuza wannabe. But, I bet they're going to change their minds once they see you in a frilly pink apron…"

"Shut it, Aki," grumbled Shinjiro, his face darkening.

"You know, some of the boxing guys think that girls go crazy over tough guys that can cook. It softens them up a bit, makes them more approachable." Shinjiro grimaced distastefully, much to Akihiko's delight.

"Since you claim to be my manager, use your managing skills to divert the girls' attention away from me. Maybe you can lure them away by baking a cake and when they're gushing all over you and how well you used frosting, I can stroll right out of school without a hitch."

Akihiko suddenly found himself in a suffocating choke hold underneath Shinjiro's armpits. He struggled to get out of the death grip, but it was futile; Shinji's skills can be compared to Heracles' taming of the Nemean Lion.

"See if you can get out of this without a hitch," challenged Shinjiro, smirking when he heard the despairing gags from Akihiko.

* * *

The soft glow of the lamp next to his bed was the only light in the room. Shinjiro had already gone to sleep, giving only quiet snores in any response. Akihiko laid on the bed, propping his head against the iron head board as he read his textbook on Japanese history. The clock on the night stand glowed green with 11:58. He knew he needs as much sleep as he could get, but he's very close to the end of the chapter so he's holding on.

Then the lights immediately went out. The clock blinked closed and it was total darkness in the room. Akihiko looked around in confusion, wondering if the power went out for some reason. He wondered if he should alert the dorm master about it, since everyone should be asleep by now. He rolled out of bed and carefully groped his way to the door. Thankfully, the fog had let up to allow the moonlight to vaguely light the way through the windows. He felt that something was odd with the whole building, but couldn't figure out what. He walked through hallways that suddenly seemed oppressive and walked on carpeting that was too loud for bare feet to make.

He looked out the window and was greeted by fog that curled its back against the window panes. He saw the moon that glowed an eerie sallow yellow and noticed that as far as the eye could see there were no lights from the dark figures of buildings. Perhaps the power outage affected the whole neighborhood, he reasoned.

He went downstairs and realized that the whole building was completely silent.

There were no signs of people turning in their beds, no mumbles of voices, no traffic roaring distantly, and no buzz of electricity in the ceilings and outlets. No dogs were barking at the moon, and no crickets conducting a symphony in the night. For some reason, his vision seems to be playing tricks on him, maybe from the difference of the vague light of the moon and the suffocating darkness of the building, but there were clouds of darkness swaying in the corners of his eyes and in the far away distance in front of him.

He slowly climbed downstairs, knowing that that's where the adults would sleep, a very slow feeling of dread thickening with each step down. He flinched when his hand touched the rail, feeling something sticky on his palm, prompting him to let go and try to rub it away. He descended on the ground floor, and in the light from outside, he was completely unprepared of what he had seen.

A looming coffin, framed against double glass doors, waiting, waiting.

* * *

…Now I really hoped that I wasn't too OOC with the characters. I personally thought that _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_ was kind of creepy, so I thought to use that here. Be sure to expect more despairing T. S. Eliot soon. Are my internal monologues okay and appropriate. Do they seem out of place? That's what I'm trying to look for, seeing if things feel awkward or just plain weird. How's my pacing? I like it when people tell me these things. And ok, I lied; I didn't find a place to put Mitsuru mentionings in. At least a specific Mitsuru mentioning. Next to see: Akihiko's interview. And the person interviewing him is a familiar face to us all. Also, I've started College (abashed)... so I might not have too much time working on my story (gasp). But I am dedicated to it! Not a minute goes by without me thinking out a scene to write in. I think once I get in the swing of things, things will go smoothly for a lot of things, including this.


	4. The Hollow Men

The Hollow Men

_Between the idea_

_And the reality_

_Between the motion_

_And the act_

_Falls the Shadow_

For Thine is the Kingdom

"The Hollow Men" by T. S. Eliot

This was the dream. There was a giant moving black mass of hands that flailed in the air like worms in the rain and a pair of glowing blank red eyes that stared back at her from the corner of the wall. The way it moved was like an octopus; silently gliding across the linoleum in the murky dark and squeezing through the cracks of a person's courage. She stood petrified. She was struck dumb with fear and looked at the scene detached, undisturbed, and glacial. She had seen the man collapse in a heap of dark ooze, clutching his head when he felt his mind implode in darkness, and seen the flailing arms swiped away the other bodyguards against the walls.

Then it made for her father.

Something had peaked inside her and then a burst of release. Her fear shattered in the corner of her mind and a clear image rained hail on the monster. It dissolved in wispy fragments and was no more. She remembered her terror and collapsed in strong arms, protecting her, caring for her, and knew, as she closed her eyes, that she wanted to keep this feeling forever.

It was in the middle of the Dark Hour when she awoke. She sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes, and leaned back against the headboard. She felt her nerves thrumming. The remnants of her dream faded away and she couldn't recall what it was about. She closed her eyes to see if she could recreate the image, but could only bring back a feeling. The immobile shock of the floor dropping below you and the secure feeling of being caught. Whatever it was, it had the comforting feeling of a good ending to a story.

She slipped back under her covers and went back to sleep.

* * *

He had woken up feeling that he had missed something. It was the sensation of a long, meaningful dream that was so much like life that once he woke up he had slipped back into the life he had been leading. He put on his clothes as he always did everyday and each action was like a reintroduction. He put on shoes that he had to remember how he always tied the knot, and he looked carefully at himself in the bathroom mirror to reaffirm that he was himself. By the time he left the dorm, he was already back in the swing of things.

"Good afternoon, Sanada-kun. My name is Shuji Ikutsuki, the chairman of Gekkoukan High School. You can just call me the Chairman, since I know my name's quite a mouthful."

_He stood rooted to the spot, petrified by the hulking morbid furniture. He turned round on his heel, about face with a tense face and frozen throat, and walked back up the stairs, not quickly, without skipping a beat. _

"Thank you, er, Ikutsuki-san. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm going to ask you a few questions about yourself in our interview, so please relax. I'm an easy-going kind of guy, and there's no wrong thing to say that could affect your getting accepted. Of course, if it helps, I can crack a few jokes to break the ice; I have a pretty good sense of humor, for an educator."

"…That's fine, sir."

Ikutsuki elation deflated. Collecting himself, he picked up a piece of paper on the table to look something over. "Well, let's start with what we do know. You've gotten very admirable marks in your test scores, placing you within the top fifty of this school. Your recommendation letters from your teachers spoke very highly regarding your character and potential as a student. Very good so far, because at Gekkoukan we place a student's capabilities and talents above financial and social status."

"Thank you, sir," said Akihiko, for lack of a better reply.

"However, we shouldn't overlook technical matters. Gekkoukan is a recent private school of which its creation was thanks to the Kirijo Group. As such, the school is provided with the very latest in terms of the equipment used in classrooms and how subjects are taught. As a result, there's some experimentation in teaching methods by some teachers. We are also provided with facilities that are not common compared to other private schools. As a result of our added benefits for the students, the cost of tuition can deter many prospective students from applying, and less fortunate too for those who wanted to live in a dorm."

Akihiko looked askance, knowing where this would lead to. He clenched his fist in irritation.

"You've been living alone for a long time, correct Sanada-kun?" The Chairman asked softly, in sympathetic eyes that Akihiko always see and couldn't quite adapt to when this subject was broached.

_He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he felt empty, jumping feeling of a heart trying to swallow itself struggling in his chest, and all he could hear above the rapid beating in his ears was the swollen silence in this dark, silent world. _

"I never think of myself as being alone in life, since I have many people who have supported me," replied Akihiko carefully, finding comfort in the admittance.

Ikutsuki nodded. "I'm sure that's true. I've heard of how much various educators and guardians have looked out for your well-being. But in reality, the fact that you don't have financial support from a known family member or a guardian would pose as a difficult task upon enrolling. However," his voice brightened a little. "We do have many scholarships, which includes both sports and academics."

Akihiko looked up and gave the Chairman his full attention to his implications.

"When the school board sees great potential, they are quick to dish out awards for proper circumstances. Your records show that not only do you excel as a student, you also successfully balanced academic life with your extracurriculars. Particularly in sports. I heard that your jabs are like lightning!" Ikutsuki then gave a mischievous grin. "I bet your opponents get _shocked_ at how much you can dish 'em."

He waited for a response, for added effect. Akihiko stared back blankly. Ikutsuki cleared his throat and brought out something from his briefcase.

"Have you filed a financial aid report before?"

"Yes, I have. I received some aid, and it's been bolstered by the orphanage staff who still look after me. I've, uh," Akihiko looked at the pile of papers that have his information. "I've also recorded the scholarships and awards I've been given throughout the past three years."

"Ah, yes. And those are very encouraging to see. I see that you've taken many awards given by the school, as well as from your sport interest."

"I've mostly used the money to pay for middle school, and I'm finishing this year without any debts or loans. I was sort of thinking I could do the same when I enroll in Gekkoukan as a first year."

"That may be feasible, as you could potentially finish your first year with a rather small amount of debt or you may have to get a loan at some point. However, I should have to point out a few things."

Akihiko braced himself when he saw the Chairman's serious expression.

"Gekkoukan is a very rigorous school. Since we are still relatively established, we haven't really gained a set reputation to bolster our respectability. Also, even though you've placed very well in your exams in such a well-rounded middle school such as this, you might experience some sort of culture shock with the students at our school, whom many have come from other rigorous learning environments, you may find your placement to have dropped considerably. That sort of thing could easily discourage some people"

"I adjust well to my surroundings," affirmed Akihiko.

"Which I'm sure would be no problem, given your character. But can you still balance school with boxing? I've read on the section of why you wanted to apply to Gekkoukan was because the boxing team is doing favorably recently. The training there pulls no punches, you know."

Akihiko nodded. "That's exactly how I like it. I wouldn't accept anything less from my choices, and I don't want them to expect anything less from me."

_Following him up the stairs, through insidious hallways, walking past windows with window panes that make prison bars on the floor, the visage of the solitary coffin crept in the corner of his eye. He went away from it and took with him the stalked, exposed insecurity of something ominous pointing its gun behind his back. _

Ikutsuki nodded to himself, as though agreeing something to himself. "Good, good. Now, enough of the technical stuff. Do you have any questions for me before we conclude?"

Akihiko shook his head. "I'm good for now."

Ikutsuki rose from his chair, Akihiko following suit, and shook the student's hand. "Well, it was very nice meeting you, Sanada-kun. We'll let you know in the mail if you're accepted or not. If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to call the school faculty office. Our guidance counselors are very helpful. They'll _guide_ you through the dark if you want counsel."

"Uh, thanks Ikutsuki-san."

Akihiko rolled the door open and stopped when he was about to cross the threshold. "What are the people like in Gekkoukan?" He asked.

Ikutsuki looked away in thought. "Well, all I can say is that it's never a dull moment there."

_He closed the door to his room and let out a relieved sigh. Without a word, he slipped under the covers, rolled over to face the wall and stared. He took deep, steady breaths, listening to them, and he gripped his comforter tightly. He felt more at ease in his room, in the room's enveloping darkness, and in a familiar setting. But his heart began racing and his mind was at a loss at what he had just seen and experienced. _

* * *

It was an unusually warm day in February. The weatherman declared that this early thaw will persist throughout the rest of the week and all of next week. It was warm enough that Akihiko only had to wear his short sleeve dress shirt and an undershirt beneath it during school. The other students had caught on, enjoying the break from having to wear coats and long sleeves during the fall and winter. It was also a relief for Akihiko. He hated the cold. He also disliked the fact that sometimes he would feel some discomfort in his hand joints because of the weather, and that slight numbing of the hands would occasionally throw him off from making effective hits.

"Hey, Akihiko-senpai!" Hiro greeted as he entered the locker room. "How'd your interview go? Man, Gekkoukan…" He shook his head disbelievingly. "That's a really high-tech school. Did you know that they get their electricity from the wind generators on Port Island? And it's private electricity! All owned by the Kirijo Group. Man, if you get in there, you'll with all those high-rollers."

"Yeah, I guess…" mumbled Akihiko as Hiro dumped his gym bag on the bench. They dressed in silence, taking their time as they still have a few minutes before practice starts.

"You know, my mom was really considering me in applying to Gekkoukan High…" trailed Hiro.

"Really? Why?"

"She thinks that I can get a better education there than the other schools I'm thinking going. And then I might get into a better college."

"Well, that sounds reasonable," Akihiko replied through gritted teeth, wrapping his hands with sports tape, holding one end with his teeth.

"…But I don't really want to go there." Akihiko glanced at him when he noted the dejected tone. "It's not like some high school would make a difference whether I get into the college I want, right? I mean, that's what the national tests are for. So everyone gets an equal opportunity to get into college. And besides…" Hiro stopped getting prepared and sat on the bench next to Akihiko.

"I'd rather be in a school where I'd know at least a couple of people. Gekko High kids are, like, another species from the guys I usually hang out. And I heard that tuition hits hard on the wallet. I told her about that and then she goes and decides that I should give up some things if I want to succeed. Like sports…"

"Couldn't you get some sort of scholarship? I helped paying for going to school here because I applied for some awards. And our team did get some money for each of us because we had a really good season."

Hiro laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, we did. But I'm not smart enough in school to get any honorable mentions and I'm not that talented in boxing for those scouts to take notice of me and drag me into their school. And it's not like my family's poor enough to receive any sort of financial aid for me, but we're not what you'd call wealthy. Man, higher education really hits hard on the middle class…"

Akihiko didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't relate to his friend's pressures since he's the one that makes the decisions for his life and didn't really have anyone to force him to go one way or the other. He knows what he needs to do to survive.

"Well, all I can say is that what you do is really up to you. Sometimes you have to make choices by yourself and you're the one who'd know if you can follow them through or not. For now, do what you think is best, and make up for the things that needed to be improved on." Akihiko got up from the bench, grabbing his gloves by their strings and walked towards the gym.

Hiro looked blankly at Akihiko, considering his upperclassman's words. He at himself, at his wrapped hands and saw them clenched in fists. He got up, snagged his gloves, and caught up to Akihiko.

"Thanks, Senpai. I didn't mean to lay all my troubles on you."

"Don't mention it."

"I mean, I'm not really going to seriously apply to Gekkoukan; I have to be practical, you know? It's better to do well in a place you're comfortable with, in my opinion. I would feel so out of place with all those rich snobs in their snazzy uniforms. And you're not going, too, right? I mean, I don't know how _you_ can afford to-"

Akihiko raised an eyebrow at his implications.

"I-I mean, I didn't mean like-" stammered Hiro. "Well, um… God, I really put my foot in my mouth, haven't I?" his face flustered in shame. Akihiko waved it off. Hiro looked away uncomfortably.

"Well, er, anyway. But sometimes… It really bugs me when my parents went and said that what I like to do are really useless things, especially if I don't really get into them. I can't help what I like, right? I'm not playing around, am I?"

Akihiko didn't say anything.

Looking back, he felt that was when his world changed. Not in a huge, location-changing, magnificent send-off of seniors type that he expected later. But in that uncertain whisper.

_Between the desire_

_And the spasm_

_Between the potency_

_And the existence_

_Between the essence_

_And the descent_

_Falls the Shadow _

_For Thine is the Kingdom_

* * *

Does Japan give financial aid to prospective high school students? Do they need financial aid forms, like FAFSA? I felt like I was making Akihiko going through American college instead of high school D:


	5. Mistah Kurtz, He Dead

"Mistah Kurtz- He Dead"

* * *

The truth is a required taste, one that Shinjiro has not acquired but mastered its taste and flavor to dish out to others. Once, when he and Akihiko were young whippersnappers tugging around the younger sister Miki like a quail chick, the Sanada siblings were entangled in a brutal, no-holds teasing match. Two snot-nosed brats in the orphanage were chasing Miki for no other reason than to frighten her with images of being tied-up and put on train tracks or having her lovely hair sheared by a barber with a huge mustache and teeth like aged piano keys. Akihiko stepped in and engaged in an epic tumble in the dust and leaves with all the strength of a cornered puppy driven by two squawking disturbed geese. However, as they were laying down and out, one of them sucker-punched Akihiko by saying that he and his sister received special treatment simply because their parents died in an automobile accident. Akihiko, leaving them in the dirt and towing Miki by one hand, tearfully asked Shinjiro if that was true and if he was only their friend because of pity. Shinjiro, righteously outraged, dragged both Sanada siblings back to the two boys, who were dusting themselves off, and proclaimed that they shouldn't feel superior to the siblings because they were victims of circumstances. After all, being dumped in an orphanage because they had no other option is better than being left behind because they were not wanted, like him and the two brats.

And so, in the end of the day, Shinjiro received punishment from the matron for being insensitive and was left in solitary confinement.

The truth is also hard to swallow. Truths such as the impotency of being in control, and children who were never wanted in the first place.

And so another truth revealed itself that was too hard to swallow. It was something that everyone knew but couldn't exactly be put into words.

Shinjiro pulled off his beanie to rake his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath, imagined what his friend is currently doing inside, and pushed the double doors into the boxing team's training area. The area was empty, save for Akihiko, making the thumping noises from the bag reflect the building's loneliness even more. He had heard from the school's announcement system that due to the circumstances that today's boxing practice was called off, but that didn't stop Akihiko from doing his usual routine. In fact, Shinjiro knew that the fool needed do something normal to offset the unnaturalness of the day.

He strode casually to the source of the thumping sounds, watching Akihiko pummel the stuffing out of the cylindrical bag. He noted the harsh panting and the dark concentrated scowl on his forehead.

"Hey. Don't you think you had enough? The school's about to close up."

Akihiko didn't stop, but he let up his punches a little.

"The city-wide championship is at the end of the week," panted Akihiko. "I have to get ready for it."

"Doesn't mean you have to wear yourself out for it. You deserve a break with the rest of the team; I hear it's better to rest to sharpen your axe than to keep swinging away against a tree."

"Where'd you- pant- get that from?" Akihiko swung a mighty punch at the side, making the bag swing. "From a fortune cookie? No breaks for me, Shinji. I have to keep my schedule no matter what or else I lose it."

Shinjiro could see Akihiko's shoulders sagging and his head tilting downwards in exhaustion. Nevertheless, Akihiko rounded on the bag in another series of punchs and jabs. He curled his lips in disgust and strode quickly to the other end of the bag. He held it, feeling the force of the blows, and snapped at Akihiko's face.

"Would you just stop for one goddamn minute?!" Akihiko paused, flinching back from the outburst.

"You think you're unaffected by this? That you can just continue doing what you want to do? Nobody's saying it, but you can't deny that people are getting a little scared."

Akihiko looked away sullenly. Shinjiro let go of the bag and shoved his hands in his jacket.

"Let's just bring it out now: before, we only hear about Apathy Syndrome cases when the poor sap's at the next town or somewhere in some joint in the middle of the city. But, this is the first time it's been this close to us before."

Akihiko closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to calm his racing heartbeat from the exercise. He remembered the news on Monday.

He had been collecting his binder in his briefcase when he heard a shriek outside the classroom. A clamor arose, finding himself facing a crowd of people when he opened the door. He weaved his way through the students with disturbed faces and looks of confusion to the source, and what he found there halted whatever thoughts he was thinking of.

There in the center of the circle, the object of fear and, it can be admitted, revulsion, was Hiro Yamato.

He stood there with a stupefied expression, his head tilted upwards at the ceiling and his arms lax and unresponsive. Saliva was dripping from the corner of his mouth, trickling down his neck and wetting his shirt collar. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his normally nervous and mischievous irises turned blank as a blackboard. It was not much longer before his meager stand against reason would collapse under him and hit prostrate on the floor.

Akihiko, having recovered from his surprise, broke through the circle and went up to Hiro.

"Hiro- Hey! What's the matter with you?" He touched Hiro on his shoulder, prompting the unstable friend to lose balance and collapse on Akihiko. Akihiko nearly fell, but he regained himself and steadied the dead weight against him. Hiro sagged against him, slipping down until his knees touched the ground. Akihiko kneeled and shook his shoulders.

"Hiro! Get a hold of yourself."

"Sanada-kun!"

Akihiko looked behind him, at the teacher who cleared a path through the curious students and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You have to step away from him, Sanada-kun." Akihiko was reluctant. "Leave it up to us, now."

And he did. He watched when the adults dispersed the gawking children back into their classmates. He looked out the window at the ambulance parked in front of the school, wheeling in Hiro through the car doors on a gurney. He gazed impatiently at the clock on the wall over the whiteboard as the second hands relinquished the minute hand to begin the after school hours. The time when he would go to practice. The time when there would be no one there in the gym, when there would be no Hiro.

"You're losing it, Aki." Shinjiro's blunt voice brought him to reality.

"What? I'm not freaking out about it. Not like _some_ people," Akihiko grimaced. "A lot of kids in my class were freaking out about it and thought that there was a _plague_ hitting the school."

"Of course people would freak out; they're being sensible by acting like a bunch of headless chickens. Come on, Aki," wheedled Shinjiro. He walked over to his friend. "Quit pretending that everything's under control by doing the…" Shinjiro made a vague gesture with his hands. "The- _things_ you do. Which is training, and I shouldn't have said 'things' because that implies you do more than one thing, and you don't."

Akihiko went to his gym bag for a towel and wiped off his sweat. He took a swig from his water bottle before replying. "We've known Hiro for long time. Since elementary school." Shinjiro nodded in affirmation.

"Remember his tenth birthday?"

Shinjiro snorted lightly. "Yikes. Who could forget _that_."

"He's always the one who gets the most out of recess. He always tried to initiate the games with other kids, or answer the most questions from the teacher, even though he was wrong most of the time. But he was so… forceful. I always thought he was an okay guy, just kind of hyper or something. But so many kids saw him as a dork."

"_I _still think he's a dork."

"They say mean things behind his back, even though they joined in on his games. They'd ignore him completely on one day and on the next they start paying attention to him more. It's pretty messed up when you think about it. I don't think we've ever had that done to us."

"That's 'cause after we beat the shit out of them for making fun of us being orphans, they've never dissed us again."

"So, on his birthday, he wanted to throw this huge party and his family was into it, too. He gave everyone in our class invitations, talked about how big the cake was going to be, and how many games they'll play; I think it was in a park, too."

"An _amusement_ park," corrected Shinjiro.

Akihiko groaned at the memory. "The mistake was that he gave them the park passes with the invitations. So that when the day came around, _no one_ came to his party-"

"Except me, you, and Miki, and one or two other kids," Shinjiro filled in. "He thought that everyone was either sick or had somewhere to go to or something, but then we saw them doing _their_ own thing on the other side of the park. We had that huge cake to ourselves, and it's wasted on all those empty seats at the table. Man, his mom threw a fit, and his dad started yelling at the kids' parents. At least he had a lot of relatives and cousins at the party…"

Akihiko sighed heavily. "Still, that was probably the saddest moment we've had to witnessed for somebody else."

"So then, you do feel sorry for him."

Akihiko gave a rueful smile. "Maybe. I guess I just wished that I could've been a better friend or something. That's all he ever wanted, right? And some people just took advantage of that insecurity and screwed him over. And… agh! I don't know what I'm saying anymore." Akihiko shook his head in frustration. He plopped down next to his gym bag, looking at his hands.

"This sucks," he said plainly.

It was the truth, plain and simple.

"Yeah," Shinjiro agreed.

They sat in silence. The enormity of the tragedy, which slowly through rumors and excited whispers became the harbinger of an unknown peril, weighed heavily in the stale air. What disturbed was the knowledge that what they've witnessed was a disturbance in their structured world, and the first fall of a friend. What disturbed them was the blank stare of an empty mind, a person with no personality, and how much they are reminded at how alive they are.

"What do you think the future's going to be, Shinji," Akihiko asked. "I guess I'm just bothered that I don't see a clear picture anymore."

Shinjiro shrugged. "Don't ask me. I never really think about the future. I just think about what I should do right now."

Akihiko grunted in assent.

Shinjiro stood up and stretched. "Well, not that walking down memory lane wasn't fun, but I didn't come here for a freakin' sob story. I just came down here to see if you're ok, and now that that's done with I'm going to have to drag you back to the dorm. We have to be back at a certain time, in case you forgot."

"Yeah, I know. Just let me change and I'll be right out." Akihiko dropped his gloves into his bag and swung the luggage over his shoulder. "Thanks for checkin' up on me."

"Hey, don't get the wrong idea- I just came to see if that Apathy Syndrome rubbed off on you. I know it's not contagious or anything, but I did hear rumors around school of how the people who are somehow related to the victim are next on the list. So…." Shinjiro trailed off, looking at Akihiko pointedly.

Akihiko gave him a dark look. Shinjiro opened his arms defensively.

"What?" he demanded.

"It's a mental disease, not the flu!"

"Hey, Hiro was drooling all over the place. You got his germs on you- Gack!" Akihiko flung his sweat-drenched towel and hit its mark on Shinjiro's face. Shinjiro peeled it off him, spitting and rubbing his face while doing so.

* * *

Shinjiro was huddled over at his desk, copying Akihiko's history notes on another piece of paper and also writing dates and battles on note cards for his boxer to quiz him on. It's not everyday that the history teacher allows retakes to get a chance to score a higher grade, and he's not about to let this advantage slide by. His aforementioned friend was laying on his bunk bed, idly reading his sports magazine while also giving little snippets of explanations of heads of state and their personal battles to Shinjiro. The virtues of being with a childhood friend were boundless; both knew how to live with each other and tolerate one another, as opposed to the chatterboxes and nervous roomies Shinjiro experienced in the past.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Through the warped reflection of the table lamp's chrome metal, he glanced at Akihiko, still reading his magazine in the yellow glow of his light.

"You done yet, Shinji?" Akihiko asked.

"Nope. Almost." He examined a cluttered piece of paper filled with Akihiko's scrawl. He thought idly of how left-handed people's handwriting are always kind of weird to him.

The digital clock blinked midnight, and Shinjiro blinked. He felt something alarm in his head. Something… off. He shifted his eyes back and forth, staring hard at the paper in front of him. He thought he saw something, like the light had flickered rapidly or that somehow, things that were in front of him were suddenly out of place. He glanced at his lamp's reflection.

He quickly swiveled behind him in panic. He knocked over the chair for standing up so fast. He inspected the bed, eyed the wrinkles and the magazine on the floor.

Akihiko was nowhere to be found.

He bolted out the door, intending to alert the head of the dorm, when at the end of the hallway, seated on the couch, was his friend reappeared. He stared at Akihiko, unable to comprehend. He walked quickly towards him, then slowing when in close distance. Akihiko leaned his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, silent and still.

"Aki," said Shinjiro softly. "…What are you doing here?"

Straight and to the point.

"…Sitting," Akihiko replied.

Shinjiro looked backwards at their room, then back at Akihiko. "Why are you here, when… we were just…" he couldn't continue. It was too much to take in. Akihiko didn't reply immediately. He muttered something that Shinjiro barely caught.

"What?" he demanded. "What do you mean 'again?' This happened before?"

Akihiko grimly nodded. "I thought I was dreaming at first… Then I thought, what if I tried…"

"Hey, what's going on here?"

Akihiko looked up and Shinjiro directed his attention to the stairwell. One of the adults overseeing the dorm climbed up the stairs from below.

"What are you two doing up? You know you should be in your room about two hours ago!"

Akihiko mumbled an apology and walked away from the couch. Shinjiro looked at him, then glancing at the adult, followed suit. When he got in the room, Akihiko had already lain beneath the covers, already fast asleep. Stopping himself from shaking him into waking when remembering Akihiko's haggard look, he packed away his notes, lain Akihiko's near his book bag, turned off the light and went to his bed. He didn't fall asleep until an hour later, still thinking in his dreams, still trying to take in what occurred in the dark corners of the night.

* * *

It was just an hour before the city-wide boxing championships would begin. She flipped her red hair behind her back, passing by a window's reflection to adjust her headband. She approached the boys' locker room, only to find an assistant coach blocking the doorway.

"Excuse me, but I'm afraid-" He stopped mid-sentence, realizing who he was talking to. "Um, pardon me, but what are you doing here, Miss Kirijo?"

"I want to talk to one of the boxers in there," she replied succinctly.

"May I ask who?"

"Akihiko Sanada."

The assistant coach rubbed his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry, but he's busy right now. As he's one of our leading contenders, he needs all the focus he can get. Perhaps, after the event is over then maybe…"

She nodded. "Of course. I'll wait outside here."

"U-Uh, that may not be a good idea." She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. "Usually, when we're done there's a very large crowd of…supporters," he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the term. "So I recommend meeting him a little bit after he came out, once we've settled down the crowd."

She nodded once again and said, "I understand." She turned on her heel and walked away from the locker room, leaving the man mystified at the sudden attention of a corporate daughter to their miniature Cinderella Man. He reflected on it, and bemoaned the fact that when he was young he never had the attention of girls, much less powerful ones.

* * *

Note: This chapter doesn't lead to the first chapter, and therefore the first chapter was NOT a prologue. I thought I made it clear with the second chapter, but I understand why this one could ambiguously be what I first disclaimed.

Why did this chapter give me so much trouble?? My butt hurts from sitting too long, but this was long in the making. The Horror! The Horror! The chapter, not the sitting part. I wonder if my title was too abstract. So I re-read my beginning, then realized that my first chapter's style was extremely different from the rest, and it displeased me, and I now aim to make sure that my style remains somewhat consistent. Actually…whisper I liked my first chapter better than all the rest. (MOAN) Why can't I keep with the flow?? Grrs. You know what I think would have been interesting? What is the perspective of one who sleeps through the Dark Hour and wakes up to find EVERYTHING changed (like the furniture and the position of the people… Suddenly there's, like, roaches on the floor… I wonder if insects appear in the Dark Hour…). I mean, I bet it all happens in the blink of an eye. How trippy would THAT be.


	6. Portrait of a Lady

**RE-EDIT 9/25/08** I polished it up a bit and changed a few sentences that changed a few meanings.

* * *

Portrait of a Lady

The Bay Area City Wide Boxing Championship was underway. It was a three-day event which took place during the weekend and afterschool on the last day. Top boxers from the different school districts in Iwatodai competed for the title of best amateur boxer, and all knew the prestige they would take if one were able to defeat Akihiko Sanada in the ring. The boxer in question was at least able to take his mind off of things as he fought bout after bout. He recognized many of the competitors and had even hung out with them a few times afterward in the evening. Some had sharpened their skills, and respect was renewed between the pugilists after their bouts. Some came to confront their grudges and each time they fought, it was personal and they put their manhood on the line. On the last day, amidst screaming crowds and an orgy of shrieking girls, Akihiko again fought the sneering boxer from the rival school, and after much difficulty, swung a KO at the opponent.

The battle was won. It was his arm that the referee declared the victor and it was in his hands that he was given the trophy and scholarship check. But at the end of the day, as he cooled off in the showers, he thought once again of his friend who recently lost his mind and wondered if this was all his effort had come down to: winning fights and obtaining awards.

He shrugged on his red undershirt and short-sleeved dress shirt. The weather had started to warm up and leaves began to form on the bare trees that lined the school grounds. Eventually, they will bud into blooming pink flowers only to drift slowly back down to the roots from whence it came. He buckled the belt around his pants, took his time tying on his brown leather shoes, and looped his sports bag over his head and on his shoulder. As he approached the double doors, he slowed down, hearing a commotion.

"Aaaah! We wanna see Akihiko-kun!"

"I told you already, leave us alone!"

"Awww, you're such a mean captain! I don't know how Akihiko-kun puts up with such a dweeb like you."

"Excuse me?! You think beating up people is all fun and games? Try making a bunch of guys wash their shorts!"

Akihiko sighed. He wondered if there was an alternative exit from this room, like maybe climbing out the window or a back door. He shook his head, clearing it of wishful thinking. He'd have to remind himself to treat the team captain to ramen sometime to thank him for his patience, or at least to console him of being called a dweeb. He braced himself and pushed the doors open.

* * *

Mitsuru leaned against the off-yellow walls of the gym hallway, thinking of how she should construct her words that would effectively convince him to take her seriously. Would he be convinced if she spouted grandiose solicitations for fighting for truth, justice and the betterment of mankind? She bit her lip. It's not a bad tactic; throughout history, scores of people became followers and champions of a cause simply for altruistic reasons or "doing what was considered right." When she really thought about it, this tactic extends to broad categories, from religion to the ecology, such as the Crusades of centuries past and the fight against global warming and alternative energy resources in modern day. Using "justice" and "the right reasons" are persuasive justifications for anyone, and given the right delivery, would not turn off potential crusaders.

But global warming and fighting monsters that appeared during a hidden hour at night aren't really comparable examples of "fighting for the right reasons." Just as a person does not regularly see a Shadow devour the mind of a fellow human being, one does not physically see a planet broiling in the heat of its own atmosphere. They can only see the results. But while there are opposing scientific resources that oppose whether the world is experiencing a drastic climate change or not, it is a feasible, real menace whose existence or the possibility it may exist cannot be denied.

Abstract monsters of a bizarre nature are not real to the public, save for those who actually worked in the shadows.

Mitsuru hung her head a little. She's thinking too hard on this, and now she couldn't keep her thoughts straight. From what she could judge from her peers' comments, and from what she had seen so far in his performances, Akihiko Sanada might be too practical to blindly be bought in by glittering ideals. She had seen it today, too; despite the brutish nature of boxing, she could plainly see his pragmatic strikes against his opponent, how calculating his defenses were. He's not easily tricked into an opening. And he would see her telling him outlandish tales of monsters in the dark as just that: a trick.

A noise around the corner from where she was standing disrupted her thoughts. She heard footsteps approaching, the strong clicks that boys make that differentiate the pitter-patter din that young girls made.

"Hey, thanks for driving them away, Matsui," one voice said. "I was just about to open the doors when you made that lame excuse."

"No problem, Sanada." Mitsuru snapped to attention. "I just can't believe they bought it. As if you'd actually organize an autograph booth on the other side of this gym…"

"Well, it sent them packing," replied Akihiko, chuckling. He and two other boys walked past Mitsuru, not noticing her against the wall of the other hallway, she unconsciously pressed her back further against the wall.

"For that, I'll treat you to ramen at Hagakure," said Akihiko, the sound of his voice beginning to trail away as the distance between him and Mitsuru widened her eyes.

"Really? No way! Thanks man!"

She watched them approach the exit doors, her mind racing if she should go after them or not. The coach from before said that there's usually a crowd following them at the end of the day, and she had seen them from the past two days, but for some reason they were nowhere to be seen. The athletes probably had a rare chance of eluding the group and are about to make their getaway. She stepped away from the wall and was about to go after them when one of them opened the door and a scream echoed throughout the halls.

"See! There he is!" a girl cried out.

"Oh my GAWD, Akihiko-kun, you were _incredible_ at your last match."

"Hey! W-What're you guys doing here?!" cried Matsui, the captain.

One of the girls scoffed. "Tch. As if we'd believe your lame excuse of a lie. Waiting out here was _much_ better, right girls?"

All the girls in the group proceeded to extol their appreciation to Akihiko, shoving forward en masse like a swarm of ants toward a picnic. Mitsuru looked at the scene with raised eyebrows. She had noticed the crowds that Akihiko apparently attracts, but she was never this close to these sort of people until now. The sight of the girls practically clawing their way through the two boys' spread-out arms, which made a pitiful yet effective barricade, and the blood-curdling high pitch shrieks from the fans made her flinch. It amazed her what ungodly actions human beings can do with their vocal cords. She couldn't help but stare blankly at the scene; she had never seen such… primal behavior from what she considered the fairer sex in her lifetime. It's almost embarrassing to watch, but like a car wreck she can't help but slow down and stop traffic to see the results.

Akihiko made an about face and went in the opposite direction. The girls started rushing forward only to be impeded by the steady arms of the disturbed boxing teammates.

"Aw, come on! We can't leave if you guys are still here," cried the boxing captain.

"Hold on a second," cried a deeper, masculine voice.

Matsui the boxing captain flinched in recognition. "Oh my god, not _you _again…" He gave a surprised yelp when he was shoved over against the wall and a man in a suit barreled through the mob.

"Hey you! Sanada-kun, right?"

From where she was standing, she saw Akihiko's eyes close, as though trying to summon all the inner-strength he has to not snap. He looked behind over his shoulder and replied, "That's right."

The man straightened himself up and held his lapels importantly. "That…" he paused for emphasis. "…was an amazing bout! I've _never_ seen a junior high fighter deliver a KO like that! I'm with the school you were up against in the finals. What do you say about enrolling with us?" he wheedled. "You'll get a _fat_ scholarship- you'll only get to pay half your tuition!"

Mitsuru smiled to herself. She'll give him a _full _scholarship if it came down to that, which she was what will happen anyway. The other student boxer helped up Matsui from the ground.

"Hey, you can't do that!" he spluttered. "That's against the rules and you know it!"

Akihiko turned around to face him. "Sorry, but I don't see any reason to join a school that places second." He jerked his head dismissively. "Get outta here."

Touché, Mitsuru thought to herself. The recruiter appeared very irritated, but was soon confronted by the girls who were watching on the sidelines.

"You hear that? He'd never go to your loser school!" The girl formed an L on her forehead at the man. The recruiter was about to retort when the two boxers proceeded to shove him and the female horde out the doors. The two boys followed them outside, the double doors slowly closing and clinking shut. Akihiko turned away from the door, sighing deeply and letting his jacket trail to the ground.

Mitsuru made her move.

* * *

"Couldn't you have handled that a little more politely?"

That jesting lilt, a hint of amusement with an air of authority, came from this girl standing before him, arms crossed in front of her slender waist, weight distributed evenly between her booted feet, and wavy red hair the color of autumn leaves cascading over her shoulders held back by a strip of black headband. He stared at her warily.

"I heard it gets crowded after practice, as well as other events, so I waited here instead." Her tone and voice reminded him strongly of how she walked toward him: precise and to the point. No dawdling, no letting syllables hang in the air like a sad dog's face. Not like any girl he had ever met.

She scrutinized him unabashedly. Sizing him up like he was on display. Like he was worth it. It stirred something within him, making him want to stare back at her imperiously, challengingly. "Third year, Class C… Akihiko Sanada," she stated, confirming herself.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

"Whaddaya want?" He allowed her a chance to make her first move, not caring what it is she wanted but curious all the same. Most girls he knew were always full of energy, like they don't know how to control themselves. But her straight back, calm voice, and unwavering eyes made him want to slow down. Seconds dwindled like a thinning line of syrup, and dust motes swirled lazily in the light of windows. In the fast-paced fury of the ring and the uncontrollable urges from other people, both fighters and spectators, bombarded his senses, this lonely meeting with this strange girl made him feel conscious and unconscious of life passing its time.

She gave a teasing smile. "Aren't you going to ask who I am?"

Akihiko let up his stare a bit. Oh, so she's one of _those_ people, he thought. He felt like the moment was ruined before it began, though he couldn't quite sure what he thought it would have led into.

"No need," he replied irritably, condescendingly. "Whatever you've come here for, I don't want to get involved." Then he used the same reasoning he said to everyone, whether they got it or not. "All I want to do is train and get stronger. I don't have time to cater to what anyone wants me to be." He made as though he was about to leave when she stepped closer to him, making him stop in his movements. He stared into her eyes, ringed with thick eyelashes, and he thought he could hear the swinging of her earrings.

"It's nothing troublesome," she promised in a soft voice. "I have a very simple request."

"A request?" he echoed.

"I have enemies that need defeating."

Akihiko blinked. Like the handle of a record player scratching the vinyl of a recording, he snapped back into clarity, alarm bells ringing. He scoffed to himself and gazed at her disbelievingly.

"Enemies?" he repeated incredulously. Before he let her continue he proceeded to state the absurdity. "I don't know what the heck you're selling, but I ain't buying. Enemies…" he echoed to himself. He walked away from the wall and turned around to face her. "What, is that what you think of me? That I'm like some sort of punk or something. I mean, hey," He threw up his arms admittedly, "maybe I sounded like that before but I'm not some goon-for-hire who throws his weight around." He couldn't help but jeer a little. "What, you got hitmen coming after you? Or you gotta grudge against someone who crossed you?" He scoffed and then scowled at her. "Well, thanks for appreciating my talents but as I've said before, I don't want to get involved."

He turned around, had a glance of her rosy lips turning into a petulant frown, and made way for the door. Maybe the coast is clear and he can finally go home.

"They're not people, I assure you," her voice carried in the hallway. "You wouldn't be bound by the rules of boxing." He thought of Shinji's words to him a couple weeks before, and it somehow resonated with this girl. But he didn't give a damn to the parallels of some crazy girl to his best friend.

"No," Mitsuru said in a low voice. "The enemies I speak of…" She closed her eyes and declared "…They are related to what you've been experiencing each midnight."

Akihiko stopped cold, and whirled around to face her, eyes wide and filled with everything that he felt since the first night he saw the lights go out and the world bled in the moonlight.

* * *

Mitsuru swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, feeling her nerves flare and became quite aware of how loud her heartbeat resonated in her ears. She almost felt affronted by how disdainful he was towards her (which was probably because of his regular encounters with those kind of girls for company). Although she was able to brush it off as puerile arrogance, there were some aspects of him that unnerved her. Though he was not that much taller than her, she felt alien feelings of being overwhelmed, that there was a hidden force behind that chevalier gaze when he leaned against the wall, apprising her, judging her that went beyond first appearances.

And there they were again. He turned around to face her, his eyebrows scowled in shock, the determined line of his mouth wanting to burst into questions that demand answers. He slowly walked back towards her.

Those grey eyes that smoldered like dark clouds around a mountain when he looked at her with mild interest. The same eyes that were hardened steel when he struck at his opponent back when she first saw him were like liquid mercury when he smirked at her request, when he made those distasteful assumptions as he ridiculed her. And just now, when that boy's body, which was a shadow what kind of man he would become, stood before her, erect and tense just as he was moments ago before his final fight in the ring, she couldn't help but felt a slight tremor in her heart.

"You see," she began quietly. "I'm in the same position." Now they regard each other with equal determination in their eyes, now they are equals with a shared burden. "I experience the same thing you do. The difference is, I know what it means."

Akihiko pressed his mouth into a thin line. Mitsuru stepped back, turning her body in a way that wanted him to follow her. "If you come with me, I'll share what I know with you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but then held back. He swallowed and in a low voice asked, "Who are you?"

Mitsuru brushed her hair back over her shoulder, resting her hand on her hip. "Mitsuru Kirijo," she replied proudly. "I'm a third-year, like yourself."

He looked away, shifting his eyes as though trying to scan something in his mind.

"Kirijo…" he said thoughtfully. "I've heard that name before."

Mitsuru couldn't help but give him a pointed look. Not only was he the first next would-be persona-user, as well as maybe the first boy she had taken an active interest into, and maybe the first who seemed so different above the rest in both personality and demeanor, he's also the first who actually had to _think_ about what 'Kirijo' meant to him. Everyone else would jump to respected attention and awe after a simple introduction. She couldn't help but think that with all the contributions her family's company did, such as building a well-respected hospital and a high-maintenance school of learning, as well as some dark press regarding a certain unforgettable incident ten years ago, who _wouldn't _hear about the Kirijo name.

Something that felt like a bright yellow roadblock made her stop whatever impression it was that she had about him.

She recomposed herself, as well as trying to cover up what may have been dented pride, she gave the clincher. "You said you wanted to build your strength…" She reached in her school bag for the coup de grace, while also trying to suppress the surprising desire to make an outburst about who exactly she is.

"And with this, you can challenge 'them.'" She revealed the weapon in the late afternoon sun. Akihiko flinched at the gleaming object, instinctively stepping back with his arms raised in front of him in alarm.

"Whuh- whi-I- _What_?" he spluttered. He moved his mouth, though no sound came out, like a fish. "It's…"

"It's not a _real _gun," Mitsuru said quickly. "I-It's, well- it's too long for me to explain this fully. What I can tell you now is that you will need this when the time has come. When you will find that there are more dangerous things in this city than people, this will make difference between keeping your life and losing it."

Akihiko gave short sighs, his hand resting on his forehead. He turned a couple shades paler and his eyes began to look distraught, most likely from the heavy burden from his involvement in something so out of this world. Mitsuru gave him her sympathies. She was so used to what was expected of her by other people, and accepting it, that she didn't think of how others who are so ignorant to the truth of the real situation. She berated herself in her mind. She was so focused on wondering whether he'll accept the proposal or brush her off, that she didn't think of consequences. Now, seeing him so out of sorts, something that looked almost... uncharacteristic and foreign to him, she began to feel a creeping dread of what he might do…

Mitsuru's eyes widened at the thought.

"W-What is it?" he breathed out. Mitsuru looked at him questioningly.

"What was that place… that… I keep going to… Night after night at midnight…" He appeared to have calmed down somewhat. He covered his eyes with his hand, now looking so weary and drawn, like a taut rope suddenly being given some slack.

"The period of time you've experienced," Mitsuru began softly. "Is called the 'Dark Hour.' A period when all electronic devices have stopped and people transmogrified and slept in coffins."

Akihiko licked his lips, his hand leaving his eyes. He didn't look at her.

"Coffins… right," he said thoughtfully. "I had really thought that maybe I've, I dunno… Gone to the afterlife or something. And it was so quiet."

Mitsuru clutched the Evoker against her breast. "It is… unnerving. But, it's not at all as quiet as it appeared to be."

Akihiko gazed at her in alarm.

"If you wandered the city more closely, you would find something sinister lurking in the shadows…"

"…Monsters?" he asked suddenly. Mitsuru looked at him square in the eyes.

"…Yes."

Akihiko rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away the gnarled contortion on his brow. He laughed suddenly, mirthlessly.

"This has gotta be a joke. Some kind of really twisted prank. I mean," he chuckled. "You can't seriously make me believe that there's some… 'Hidden' hour or whatever and that people turn into coffins and that somewhere out there there's monsters. Give me a break!"

Mitsuru inhaled deeply, trying to draw a viable, concrete example. Then, she remembered.

"We've already seen the product of the precise danger we're in. Last week, there was a panic at this school…"

Akihiko stiffened, dreading, knowing what she was going to say. He bit his lip.

"…One of the students was an underclassman, but I think you may have known him. He was a member of our boxing team…"

"Don't say 'was,'" Akihiko interrupted. "He's not dead or anything. He's…"

"He's now one of the Lost," said Mitsuru. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be like that. But the appearance of Apathy Syndrome and The Lost are directly linked to the Dark Hour and the monsters that lurked there, those we call Shadows."

Akihiko clenched his fists at his sides. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth in agitation. Mitsuru walked towards him and held his hand. Akihiko looked up in surprise. She opened it and gave him the gun. She held both hand and weapon in her hands, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"This is an Evoker. It doesn't have any ammunition, but in case you are in danger, it will be of great help to you. When that time comes, you'll know what to do with it." She let go of him. "I must go now. If you need anything, I'm in class 3-B. You don't have to answer right now, but I would like one soon."

She walked around him and past him. He dimly heard the doors clang open and slowly shut closed. He stared at the Evoker in his hand. For a fake gun, it felt heavy and real in his hand. The letters S. E. E. S. were engraved on its side.

He dropped his arm and looked out at the quiet waning daylight outside the windows. He was so confused before, when walls began to bleed into the carpeting and people suddenly stopped being people. And now, just when there were answers provided, he was more confused than ever and wondered exactly what it is he will be facing.

* * *

Wow, I never thought that Mitsuru was this hard to write about. Seriously, this chapter kind of felt awkward. I may need to re-edit this or something.

But you know how you this long trail of first impressions and then there's always that something that made everything stop and be like "Wow, that kind of ruined it for me." Well, I hope that came across. Am I trying too hard to be sensual? Was the encounter too awkward? I'm sure in real life this would be a very awkward and frightening position, but- but- I don't know what to do with this…. Also, I used the script from The Answer to get this going, since it's canon and I'm just adding a little of my flair into it. I hope it wasn't in bad taste… Also, Portrait of a Lady is another T. S. Eliot poem. Check it out, if you want.


	7. The Ziggurat of Babylon part 1

The Ziggurat of Babylon Part 1

*

Akihiko was in a daze. He can recall placing the gun, no, Evoker… the fake gun in the opening of his sports bag and zipping it partway. He got out of the double doors of the gym and wandered out of the building and treaded on muted, brown grass. He stared at the ground before him as he walked, tracing the lines of cracks in the sidewalk and the small explosions of weeds mingling with the newborn grass in the dirt. Snippets of their conversation floated in and out of his mind like a revolving door in a hotel, going out and bringing back the memories like guests who couldn't decide if they want to stay or not.

Dust motes that floated around red hair. A request. Enemies that need defeating. A gun blinding him from the glare of a window. Dark Hour. Apathy Syndrome. A person who stopped traffic. Hiro standing in the hallway, the center of attention, but not attentive anymore.

Before he knew it, he was at the school gate and looked back behind him. The sun was setting behind the building, sharply contrasting the shadows on its walls and the glare from the windows. He wondered if that girl, what was her name… Kirijo, right. He wondered if that Kirijo girl was still inside the building or if she had already left.

Kirijo... Akihiko turned his head away in thought, looking at the swaying trees with various hints of leaves in their branches. The Kirijo Group had funded the construction of Gekkoukan High School, the school he had been interviewed by. He wondered if she was connected to them, if that Kirijo girl, Mitsuru, was affiliated with a business mogul that funded the school's formation. She looked affluent, so is she a direct relation? Was this all some sort of conspiracy? An elaborated lie? He wondered idly if he was being punk'd and that this was some sort of end-of-the-year prank conducted by the Student Council or whatever leadership group that this school may have had that he didn't pay attention to. He couldn't possibly believe that he entered a time in which the entire world had people turn into coffins and electronic devices went kaput if he hadn't experienced it himself, an experience which was, apparently, shared by other people. Which also, apparently, contained monsters.

Akihiko scowled wearily and made a half-hearted roll of the eyes. Damn, was he tired. He made it a point to go to bed before midnight, since he didn't particularly want to experience a period of disturbing loneliness, but when he did accidentally stayed up till midnight, which he had last night, he couldn't go to sleep. He rarely strayed out of his room during that time, but he couldn't sleep no matter how still he laid or how quiet the normally rambunctious dorm was, because he would have that nagging, prickling feeling in the back of his head that there might be imminent danger roaming about.

Akihiko felt a slight shudder down his spine. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he was outside during the, what did she call it…? The Dark Hour. It would probably be the freakiest thing he'd ever experienced.

A sudden thought jolted him from his weariness, a thought that sent him reeling.

Wait, he thought. _Why'd I let her leave?_ Now he was filled with all these questions and playing outrageous scenarios in his mind, but back then he was so dumbstruck during their discussion and the revelation that followed that when he thought about it, really thought about it, he didn't think he'd ever asked anything useful to his situation. And in his shock, she just handed him a _fake_ gun and waltzed on out of here like some climactic scene in a movie without further ado. Neatly out of the picture like turning the next page in a book.

Akihiko curled his lips in a grimace and let out a guttural moan. He hung his head in intense frustration. At least she told him what classroom she's in, he thought dimly, calming him a bit. But right now he's feeling a bit pissed-off.

"Hey, Sanada!"

Akihiko turned back at the person addressing him. He saw the boxing captain Matsui along with the team manager Kazuma approaching, having apparently dispersed the girls away from them.

"Man, it was such a drag chasing them away," Kazuma exclaimed. "You know, if I find myself being unattracted to girls my age, it'll be all your fault."

Akihiko rolled his eyes. "I'm not responsible for your actions, especially if it involves the police. Anyway, why are you guys still here?"

Matsui threw back his head and exclaimed loudly, his hands placed indignantly at his hips. "Haaaah?! Don't tell me you've back out on your offer!"

Akihiko eyed him quizzically.

"Sanada, after going through all that trouble of deceiving people, getting clawed at, and being thrown against the wall by an old man in front of a bunch of girls, I was up to here-," he gestured with his hand at shoulder-length," – with my patience with you from being manhandled by strangers and pampering the star boxer. But, I plowed through the day, stalwart and tall, because I was backed by the promise of Hagakure ramen from your wallet. But since you've apparently forgotten that promise, don't expect any more favors from me, your captain, in the future whether it be by a horde of girls or annoying reporters grabbing every article of your person."

"Hey, hey," Akihiko said, becoming slightly unnerved by the tirade. "I really do appreciate everything you do for me, and I will treat you to a Hagakure bowl. I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Well, you did look like you were spacing out when we saw you. How long have you been standing there, anyway?" Kazuma asked. Then, he put a hand to his mouth. "Uh-oh."

"What?" asked Matsui. Kazuma loomed over at Akihiko, examining him closely.

Akihiko, feeling his personal bubble being invaded, bended away from the movement. "What are you doing?"

"Hey Ak-kun," Kazuma began. "You didn't get hit on the head too hard, did you?"

Akihiko shifted his eyes in thought. "…I don't think so," he replied uncertainly.

Kazuma backed off, rubbing his forehead in thought. "I mean, you did go off against that yeti from our rival school, and he was fighting dirty in the ring –again- but you didn't look like you were having any problems afterwards. And while I'm at it: what took you so long in the gym? We were kind of wondering where you were when we led the girls and that guy away."

"Oh, uh…" Akihiko looked away, wondering how he should tell them. "I was held up by someone…" he said vaguely.

"What, we missed one or something? I thought we rounded up all the fans…" said Kazuma.

"Dude, you sounded like we were talking about sheep," Matsui interjected.

"I always see them more as… chickens, the way they're always squawking. Or geese, since they're violent."

"I was held up by a girl," Akihiko persisted, not being deterred from his train of thought. "But she just wanted to talk to me, that's all. Er… She, hm. She wanted me to join something…" he mumbled.

Matsui raised both his eyebrows incredulously. "What, you got solicited by a club recruiter? At this late in the game? That's really weird. What club?"

"It's not a club. She wanted a favor from me."

"What kind of favor?" asked Kazuma.

"….Can't say."

Kazuma and Matsui looked at each, lost, then suddenly the light of understanding dawned them. "Ohhhhhh…" They chuckled and grinned wickedly.

Akihiko scowled at them. "What?" he asked irritated.

"Do we know the girl?" Matsui leered.

"Huh? Well… her name was Mitsuru Kirijo."

Both boys stood still, as if not registering what they heard. The wind whistled distantly. Matsui unfroze his leer. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Mitsuru Kirijo."

Matsui blinked while Kazuma looked hard into the distance. Suddenly both started and threw up their arms.

"WHAAAAAAT?!"

**

"You're killing me, Sanada," Matsui said in between mouthful of noodles. "I mean, I know you're dedicated and all in our team, but how could you _not _know the most popular girl in school?"

"Or haven't heard of her?" Kazuma interjected, slurping a noodle into his mouth.

Akihiko glared both of them darkly. "All right, all right, I admit it. I don't know anything except my right and left fist. Now can you get off my case for just one minute and let me eat?" He took a great helping of noodles and shoved them through his mouth, a small spattering of soup hitting the polished counter.

"Fine, but you should at least know what you're in for, since Kirijo's got her eyes on you." Matsui cleared his throat, like a lofty college professor about to share his great findings, and gave a grand erudition of Mitsuru Karaj's statistics, gesturing his chopsticks like a pointer.

"Mitsuru Kirijo, third year, class of 3-B. While our school is by no means run of the mill, she surprised our sophomore class by transferring from what many had assumed to be a very highly regarded private school far away from the small hamlet of Iwatodai…"

"Matsui, why are you talking like that? You're beginning to sound like our Literature teacher."

"Well, she is really funny to imitate," admitted Matsui. "Anyway, so she transferred here when we were in our second year and all we knew about her then was that she's the only daughter of the Kirijo Group's CEO. You know, the same company that built Gekkoukan High?"

_Oh, yeah…_ Akihiko agreed to himself again. He didn't really think about the company whose name was subliminally ingrained in his mind. He only thought of his prospects, like high school. Suddenly, he's beginning to not like the fact that he may be getting involved with the doings of high society. Something which he probably could not avoid being entangled with.

"Since then, she's been involved in Student Council, and she's also the Treasurer this year. I'm not surprised if she has the makings to be a school president, though if you ask me, it won't just be because of her reliability. I mean, being a rich man's daughter seems like a pretty big chip on her shoulder. But you know, she's kind of… out there," Matsui said vaguely.

"Well, yeah," responded Kazuma, "I mean, a girl like her has got to be around people around her level, like celebrity kids or something. And we're just a bunch of kiddy peasants watching fearfully at the fickle feudal lord."

"That's not what I meant… well, not entirely. I mean, she's like she's on a whole different level than us, like mentally. I mean, I kind of find it hard to picture her as one of us."

"Oh, that's just dumb," said Akihiko, setting his chopsticks on the rim of the bowl. "I can kinda, sorta see what you mean, but I don't think she's unapproachable or something." _Creepy, maybe_, thought Akihiko.

"Are you joking?" Kazuma exclaimed. "The way she walks, the way she talks… she's like a princess out of a fairy tale, waiting for her knight to come and be her shield and sword!"

"…You're watching too many dramas, man," Matsui said bluntly. "I think she's more like a queen, and not just any ol' broad who's like eye-candy… or a trophy wife, yeah, that's the word," he added. "I mean like a Queen Elizabeth-queen. The kind who's going to stand up to a fleet of ships if her country's in danger. She's hella smart, you know," he said to Akihiko. "She's the top of the class ever since she came here. Compared to her, we're like single-cell organisms."

Akihiko cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Well, I guess you've elevated to a prime-ape or that caveman who've discovered fire, Sanada, since your scores aren't too bad. But even so, I bet she's going to marry some prick from a big-shot university. Heck, maybe from America."

"Canada or Mexico? Because technically America is one big continent."

"You and your stupid political correctness, Kazuma."

Akihiko leaned forward and took his cell phone out of his back pocket. When he left school, it was around 5:15. Now it's just after seven o'clock. He should get back to the dorm for curfew, and telling Shinji what had transpired. He eyed his companions' bowls, noting that they seemed finished, and asked the chef for the check.

"Oh yeah, thanks for treating us, Sanada," Matsui said, gratefully.

"I remembered saying that I would only treat _you_, Matsui," Akihiko insinuated.

"A-hem, who's the one washing your gym shorts and everyone else's?" Kazuma demanded. "Matsui? No, he's busy throwing his weight around. Who does the logistics of this team? You? You're busy smashing noses in. Oh wait… I think it's me."

"Fine," sighed Akihiko.

"Still, Akihiko," Matsui said wistfully. "You're pretty lucky. Being the breadwinner to our motley crew and placing a decent seat in the academic circle are great assets for babe-magnets. And you just attracted the richest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the entire school. That's kind of like a match made in heaven."

"I'm not dating her; in fact, I just met her, so I don't know anything about her."

"But even so, successful people belong to successful people, I guess," continued Matsui, as though he didn't hear his breadwinner talking. "Well, I wish you a happy future. I'm off to find happiness in my own way so I won't cry to my pillow every night." Matsui rose from the barstool and stretched. He put on his school coat and hefted his backpack over his shoulder. "Well, I gotta jet, guys. My parents' are saving dessert for me, so I gotta be there or else my little sister's gonna steal it."

"Yeah, see you Matsui. It's been a great being in the boxing team with you," said Akihiko, getting up from his seat and facing the captain.

"Hey-hey-hey," warned Matsui. "It's not the end of the year yet, Sanada. Our official good-bye party's next month, then we'll be able to say good-bye to each other."

"Likewise," Kazuma piped in, hopping down from his barstool. "Well, it's been real guys."

Outside the restaurant, both manager and captain took to the opposite sides of the street, leaving Akihiko to walk ahead through the crosswalk on his way to the train station. He shifted his hand around for his wallet in his sports bag, and paused when he saw the Evoker gleaming dully in the murky yellow of the streetlight. He stopped looking and let his bag sag around his shoulder. He was able to let the grim matters from the remains of the day linger in the back of his mind when he was with his friends, but now that he was out of the warmth of the restaurants and from good company, those thoughts slunk forward, weighing his forehead down in a concerned scowl and settled in a slightly squeamish churn in his stomach.

He sighed and looked around, feeling restless. He rolled his shoulders in agitation before finally, with steadfast resolution, he thrust his hand back into his bag, fished out his wallet, paid for his fare, and walked into the train.

Maybe he should talk to Shinji. He's the only one who suspects what might be going on, since he was very freaked out with his apparent teleportation from his room to the outside break room from a few days before, and maybe drag him along into whatever conspiracy that Akihiko waltzed into. God knows, it would be great to have such a stalwart friend as someone to confide into for whatever it is that would come.

**

"Hey, Akihiko-san! Aragaki left me a message for you. He said that he's going to the arcade to blow off steam and wants you to haul ass over there as soon as you get back."

Akihiko slumped his head and heaved an agitated sigh.

"Damn you, Shinji," he muttered under his breath.

So he dumped his scholarly luggage unceremoniously in their room, then after careful consideration, dumped out his gym bag and grabbed an old black backpack that once belonged to Shinji before his friend decided it was easier to just bring a binder and a notebook to school. He placed his wallet in it, and with careful fingers, gingerly placed the Evoker into the backpack. Heaven forbid if anyone snuck into his room and started rifling through his stuff. And he didn't really think he could talk about it with Shinji in this dorm anyway, because one would never know if the dorm manager started poking his nose in to check on things at the wrong time.

He walked through the double glass doors of the dorm, feeling very conspicuous and suspicious of the guys in the common room, as if at every glance at the boxer and in every tone of their voices, he could sense their suspicion of him and start thinking that something wasn't quite right. Afterall, he doesn't normally leave the dorm with a backpack or anything like that to some casual meeting with his longtime friend.

Akihiko rubbed his neck wearily, kneading out the growing knots and tension in his muscles. He felt like he was sneaking something illegal from his room, which would seem like the truth if the gun wasn't a phony.

_Damn that Kirijo_, he thought impulsively. While it was immature to place the blame on someone he doesn't even know personally, he's beginning to resent the position he's in. When he really thought about it, he could live not knowing why he's going through a period where everything gets dark and blood starts seeping through the walls. He doesn't really need to be outside when that happens, so it would be unlikely that he would encounter any danger that would involve using a (fake) gun for protection. He could even sleep through it, and nothing bad happened to him in the next morning.

But he found himself not liking that idea at all, and really, _really_ began to resent his life at the moment. After the shock of seeing coffins standing ominously in the streets in the first couple of nights, Akihiko calmed himself down and assessed the situation. He was, at the time, alone, surrounded by morbid imagery, and bereft of working modern technology. He wanted to know what's happening to him, and by thunder he better start getting some answers.

Of course, when the answers start presenting themselves to him, he found himself wishing that he kind of didn't know.

He cut through the park as a shortcut to the train station. Darkness began to deepen in the sky and the moths drift restlessly around streetlights and a slight wind began to rustle the bushes. Akihiko looked around him. He was probably the only one in the park at this time, when he checked on his wrist as 8:13, and he felt it through the lonely sounds of his shoes on the path and the low murmur of a nearby fountain.

Curious, he took off his backpack and reached for the Evoker in it. He held it in his hand, the way he thought that a gun should be held: the handle secure in his palm and his forefinger lying near the trigger. It felt slightly heavy. He examined the S. E. E. S. logo on the barrel and touched the slight metal tip that he presumed was the line of sight. He looked at it every which way, and when he looked at the hole where the presumed bullet would be, he quickly looked away from such the dangerous position, then reprimanded himself for doing so because the gun wasn't loaded and that it was fake.

Well, that's what she said, anyway.

He held it in his left hand, and then stretched it away from him like how he had seen many actors in movies did. He brought it back to him.

"So, it's fake…right?" he asked himself. "Huh."

He held it away from him again and pulled the trigger.

BAM!

He nearly dropped the gun at the harsh sound. Shaking, he quickly stuffed it in his backpack and fumbled with the zipper. He erratically closed it and as he swung the backpack over his shoulder, and took off running.

He sprinted until he was at the end of the park and in front of the train station, panting heavily. He held out an unsteady arm and braced himself against a lamppost.

_WHAT THE HELL_, he shouted in his head when he didn't have the breath to scream it out loud. His pulse boomed in his head and in his hand resting on the cold metal. He looked around wildly, wondering if there were many startled people who heard the sound. So far, everything seemed to be normal; there were no screaming or screeching of police cars in his ears, though he doesn't think he'll hear it since all he could hear was the loud explosion of the gun and many expletives he let lose in his mind that ran in tandem with his pulse. Vaguely, he wondered if there really was no ammo, but that didn't explain the sound, because he had watched a show on the history channel that specialized in guns and that the loud bang came from the air around the bullet at the moment the trigger was pulled and the bullet was propelled out of the barrel. So, why was there a bang?! It better be a very convincing sound effect because if it wasn't and he was lied to… and he stupidly pointed the gun ahead of him instead of up in the sky…

Akihiko turned sickly pale and lost all feeling in his face. He rejected the conclusion in his head.

He took deep breaths through his nose and tried to appear less distraught as he approached the ticket vendor.

As he shakily slipped a few yen coins in the slot and pressed the screen for his train ticket, he cursed to himself again.

_Damn that Kirijo…_

_***  
_

The glass doors of the arcade whooshed open upon his presence and Akihiko felt the arcade's escapist lifestyle flood into his ears and washed into his eyes as he submerged himself into blinking lights, bells and whistles from pinball machines, mechanized grunts and screams from the fighting consoles and the overlapping J-pop music from the dancing machines in the corner near the entrance. He sometimes go here to unwind with friends and maybe take a swing at the punching game which would give him prize tickets like no tomorrow, but he doesn't particularly like how afterward his senses would feel tired and drained due to being overstimulated by all the special effects, and truthfully he felt counter-productive by wasting his time in this place anyway.

He didn't have long to find Shinjiro anyway, because he pretty much walked right into his friend's path as the other was heading out the door.

"Aki," Shinjiro greeted loudly. "Took your sweet time. I was getting fed up waiting for you."

"Sorry 'bout that, Shinji," Akihiko shouted over the noise. "I got held up by someone at the gym and went out eating with the guys from the team."

"Forget about it, let's just get out and talk normally." Shinjiro turned Akihiko around and shoved him lightly through the door. Once outside, he took off his beanie and roved a hand through his matted hair. He unbuttoned his coat and flapped it a bit for air circulation. "Man, it gets hot in there after a while," he exclaimed. "So, congrats on your victory, as usual."

"Thanks, Shinji," Akihiko replied flatly.

Shinjiro tugged his beanie back on, his mouth frowned in puzzlement. "You okay, Aki? Normally a good fight would get you loosed up, but you look like crap. Of course if your face's busted up, then you can't help but look like crap, but you look peaky."

"Wha- oh, do I really look terrible?" Akihiko rubbed his forehead, surprised at how tense his brow felt. "Guess I'm still rattled," he muttered.

"About what?"

"Nothing." Shinjiro rolled his eyes at his friend. He looked around a bit, and then rested his eyes at the café ahead.

"Hey, you want to get a drink at Chagall's? I'm parched, and I'm thinking of trying that new brand of coffee they're selling."

"Sure, why not."

Shinjiro gave his friend another look, scrutinizing his not-so-average behavior. Akihiko seemed distracted and distant now, and it might be his imagination but his friend also looked really pale and clammy. He also noticed his old backpack slung over his friend's shoulder and Aki's grip on the straps. Shinjiro turned away and headed over to the café, friend in absent-minded tow. He scowled in concern.

Shinjiro pushed open the fancy doors and walked up to the counter where a girl in a uniform stood chatting with her co-worker. She immediately stopped talking and pressed a few buttons on the register, waiting for his order.

"A tall Pheromone Coffee for me and…" Shinji glanced at Akihiko, still looking slightly out of sorts. "…Something for the invalid. Like warm milk or something."

Akihiko scowled. "Very funny."

"Sorry, but we don't sell hot milk here," said the barista in a nasally voice.

"Tea, then," said Shinjiro. He took out his wallet and forked over the money over the counter. "Keep the change." He and Akihiko walked towards the end of the counter and stood waiting for their orders, doing nothing but blankly watching the other barista making their orders. Shinjiro gave an impatient sigh.

"All right, spill it," he blurted.

"Hm?" Akihiko roused himself out of his thoughts.

"Your attitude's bothering me. Are you going to tell me something or what?" Akihiko looked away and then back at Shinjiro. He didn't let up his piercing glare. Akihiko slouched his shoulders and gave in.

"Fine, but not here."

Both boys took their drinks and left the café, Shinjiro lifting the top of his coffee so that he could blow on in and Akihiko taking a few experimental sips and examining the little tag dangling from the cup that said "chamomile" in curly lettering. Akihiko jerked his head at the ally next to the police station. Once out of view, Shinjiro leaned against the brick wall, sipping his coffee and watching Akihiko pace in front of him restlessly. He would pause from time to time, open his mouth as if to speak, and then change his mind and continue pacing around the length of the alley. Shinjiro found it slightly humorous, but his patience was wearing thin.

Finally, Akihiko stopped, turned around to face Shinjiro and took a deep, preparing breath.

"Okay… Okay," he breathed, talking more to himself than to who he was supposed to address. "This may sound crazy… even weird…"

"You're… kind of acting like that, too," Shinjiro added.

"But it did happen to me, and I'm not making it up." Akihiko rubbed his hands nervously, cracking joints and holding his knuckles; tell-tale signs that something was really disturbing him. He moistened his lips. "So…" he began. "After my last match, I was getting my stuff and getting ready to go home with the guys- actually I was planning to eat out with them- but then I got held up again by a bunch of girls and some guy."

"A guy?" asked Shinjiro, somewhat incredulously.

"The only words I could describe him was a talent scout," explained Akihiko.

"For what, a show? I knew you could be a performing monkey, but I can kind of see why you'd be weirded out."

"He wanted me to jump ship and enroll in his school," Akihiko corrected irritably. "A second-placed school at that, but that's not the weird thing. So after the girls and that guy got kicked out by Matsui and Kazuma, this… one girl waited up for me and approached me when I was alone. And she was the weird one."

Shinjiro shifted his eyes in thought. "How was she weird? Was she freakier than those girls who can't control themselves?"

"No. She's really calm. Scary calm."

"Psychopath, then?" Akihiko gave him a withering look. "Fine. Uh… did she act like a stalker?"

"No- well…" Akihiko folded his arms in thought, seeming to reconsider that statement. "She apparently knew a lot about me, so I guess she's kind of a stalker."

Shinjiro made a face, deep lines appearing on both sides of his nose as he grimaced. "I knew that you have admirers, but I didn't think you'd have _devoted_ people… or person. That sort of thing doesn't happen to a fifteen year-old who's not a nationwide celebrity. I'd be very worried if I were you." Shinjiro took a pensive gulp of his drink. "She might be one of those people who'd say 'Go out with me or else I'll knife you in the back and kill myself.'"

Akihiko gaped in horror and then shut his eyes in frustration. "Great. Just keep adding things to my list of worries. Actually, that _would_ be very serious if she's some kind of freak, but she's not. I didn't get that kind of feeling from her. She's kind of like… wait, I should just ask if you know who she is because from what I've been told everyone in our school knows about her."

"Um… okay?" Shinjiro looked past Akihiko's shoulder to think about what sort of person who would be both scary-stalkerish towards his friend and well-known in the entire school. He downed his drink in a mouthful.

"Do you know of a Mitsuru Kirijo?"

Shinjiro, after being hit by a thick wall of surprise, swallowed his mouthful too hard and ended up coughing and doubling over. Akihiko walked closer to his ailing friend out of concern, standing by in case he hyperventilates or something.

"Oh, then I guess you do," Akihiko said awkwardly, cracking his knuckles out of habit.

Shinjiro, now slightly wheezing, swallowed and said, rasping, "Are you telling me Mitsuru Kirijo's got the hots for you?"

"What?! No! That's not why she was there at all!"

Shinjiro straightened up, looked Akihiko straight in the eye, full of curiosity, demanded, "Well, what the heck would the school's richest chick, whose daddy is the CEO of Kirijo Electronics amongst other things, whose the #1 straight-A student of our grade and who even I have to admit is pretty easy on the eyes, want with a guy like you?"

Akihiko stared hard at Shinjiro, feeling mildly insulted and wanting to know what he meant by "a guy like you?", but let it slide. "Well, for your information, Shinji, she asked me for a favor," he haughtily replied.

"A favor?" echoed Shinjiro. Akihiko nodded. "Like what?"

Akihiko sighed and said flatly, "She said she has enemies that needed defeating."

Shinjiro was silent for a long time, then folded his arms and remarked, "Y'know, that makes it sound like she wants you to be a hitman or something. Or assassinate someone with a gun." He laughed a little, but became silent when met with Akihiko's stony face.

_You don't know the half of it_, thought Akihiko.

****

He started pacing in a line again, his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. He had never brought up the incident in which Shinjiro found him outside their room after the Dark Hour had ended. He left their room that night primarily because he found it unnerving to be in the same room and at such close proximity with a glowing coffin that radiated the only source of light in the darkness, so he went outside thinking and twiddling his thumbs. He decided that it's now or never, and if Shinji dubbed him as crazy, well, at least it would be nice to talk about it and honestly he wouldn't care what his friend would do about it if he did believe him. Nothing would change except finding another sore spot for Shinji to use as leverage.

So he bit the bullet and told him the story. He began in a hesitant voice, disbelieving as though he could convince himself that everything that had happened to him was fictional. People turning into coffins? Laughable! Blood seeping from the walls? It could be a trick of the light masking the growing evolution of mildew crawling in corners. Saying all these things out loud, as though confirming himself that those things did happen, became harder and harder when he had to admit walking around in the dark, feeling his way around on the sticky walls, and witnessing Shinji walking out of their room and jumped in surprise when he found Akihiko there on the couch, apparently having teleported to that location from his bed within mere seconds. Very quickly, his jesting, embarrassed tone became much more serious when he mentioned that the Dark Hour and all that dwelled in it were directly connected to the fabled Apathy Syndrome that had plagued their childhood friend and caused panic throughout the school so close to the end of the year.

Shinji became silent when Akihiko finished. Akihiko watched his friend with a wary eye, trying to determine his response with every minute action of his friend's stony façade. Finally, Shinji took a long swallow of his coffee, crushed the cup in his hand, and sighed deeply, rubbing his brow with a beleaguered hand.

"So…" Shinji began slowly. Akihiko gave him an inquiring look. "So?" he echoed.

"The richest girl in school came up to you and asked you for a favor, told you about the 'Dark Hour,' about Apathy Syndrome, and just walked away." His statement brought back the feelings of ridiculousness.

"Well…" Akihiko trailed on. "She kind of… left me something?" Shinji expression became open with interest. "Really?"

"Yeah…. It's, uh, well let me show you." Akihiko pulled the backpack around and reached deep inside. His fingers touching the handle, he held it around the handle and gingerly pulled it out, not wanting to accidentally pull the trigger and produce an extremely suspicious and incriminating noise.

As soon as the shining gleam of the Evoker came out of the black backpack, Shinji jumped and pressed his back against the wall, alarmed. "Holy shit! Is that-?"

"It's not what you're thinking, and be quiet!" Akihiko cried in a hushed tone. "We're right next to a police station for god's sake!" Akihiko dropped it back in the backpack and looked around wildly. The police often start their beats at night, and it wouldn't do well to display something suspicious in public and right next to their base of operations.

"Well, you didn't have to pull it out in the open!" Shinji cried out indignantly. "And that looked like a goddamn weapon to me!"

"Shhhh!" Akihiko gestured for him to move farther into the alley, away from the openness of the mall. Shinji plopped himself next to a potted plant and glared at Akihiko for an explanation.

"Well, if it's not a gun, then what the hell is it?" he asked rudely.

"She called it an Evoker- I don't know why it's called an Evoker when it looks like a gun, so don't ask me about it," Akihiko said hastily, seeing Shinji about to speak. "She also said that it's not a real gun, despite what it looks like, Shinji, and that I'm supposed to know what I can do with it when the time comes, so right now I just have this when she gave it to me and left."

As he said that, coupled with Shinji's dark utter look of disbelief, he found himself thinking that what he had experienced was both the most profound moment and the most stupid-sounding moment that had ever taken place in his life.

"So let me get this straight, Aki. You claim that for the past couple weeks, you've had on and off encounters into a realm of darkness where there are no people and no electricity, and which may or may not contain beings called 'Shadows…'" Shinji made the "quote-unquote" sign with his fingers. "These 'Shadow' monster-alien-somethings are also directly responsible for the so-called Apathy Syndrome which unfortunately inflicted Hiro; and now this rich girl, who we would never talk to in our entire lives, comes up to you, hands you a… fake (?) gun and says, 'I have enemies that need defeating'?"

"Yes."

Shinji gaped at him, his mouth open in frozen bewilderment. He shook himself out of it and shoved his hands in his pockets in a very defiant manner.

"Well then. I think that you and your new girlfriend should go to the looney bin because I think this is the craziest shit I've ever heard coming from you- no, scratch that- that I've ever heard from anyone in my entire life."

Akihiko scowled at him and looked away in irritation, unsurprised at the response, but still feeling very annoyed. "Oh, I must be really out of my mind, Shinji, if I can even believe myself into thinking that those red stains that are on my shirt and pants come from the blood spewing out of the building. I really don't they're red ink stains, Shinji!"

"Well," laughed Shinji. "I still think that it's all bullshit."

"For crying out loud, why the hell would I just make up a story right here and right now if I wasn't actually telling the truth? I mean, how can you explain me 'teleporting' from my bed to the break room outside in, like, three seconds without you noticing me?"

Shinji was stumped, but turned away sharply in irritation.

"Huh… Whatever," he muttered.

"No, not 'whatever.' This is pretty damn serious and if I don't get to the bottom of this, I'm probably never going to get a good night's sleep again."

Akihiko exhaled deeply, feeling very drained from the outburst, and leaned against the wall for support. Shinji paced around the alleyway slowly in deep thought, the weight of their discussion showing in the shadows of his face and in his hunched shoulders. Paulownia Mall became mostly empty, only the night-owls and people going clubbing would walk aimlessly around the large area. The bright lights took on the oppressive effect that only being out late at night indoors would produce. After a long while, Shinji gave his own exhausted sigh and spoke.

"Well, you do your thing, and I'll do mine. Whatever it is you're doing, like if it involves ghosts or girls or whatever crap that happens to you, the responsibilities' all on you. To be honest, I don't know how I could be of help, anyway, because you're the only one I know who's going through this."

Akihiko laughed humorlessly. "Heh, yeah."

"But let me know how things are going. I always knew that you're going to have some exciting life; at least I'll have a peaceful one." At that, he made as if to leave and Akihiko followed him, feeling lighter than he had felt in a while now that he told everything to Shinji. He actually began to look forward for tomorrow so that he could talk to Mitsuru Kirijo about their situation. Things began moving forward again.

Just as they past Gekkoukan High School, whose ominous silhouette in the moonlight lorded over the small island, Shinji suddenly stopped in his tracks and made a noise of epiphany.

"Oh yeah," he epiphanized. "I forgot something."

"What? We're not going back again, are we?" Akihiko exclaimed. "It's almost… Oh, shoot, it's just past 11 o' clock! I think that you'd know by now that I _really_ want to go back before midnight, right?" He looked at his friend pointedly.

Shinji sneered back at him. "Don't go throwing around a hissy fit, pansy. What I forgot happens to be next to the train station. Need I remind you that I have my 'manager' duties to take care of."

Akihiko looked lost. "Meaning?"

"I had bets," Shinji said simply. "On my cash cow. Some guys were betting on how many rounds your opponents would survive before being pulverized, but this one kid made a huge bet on that last guy you were going against. I think it was the one from our rival school. If memory serves correctly, that guy really did try to pull some fast ones on you, so that kid with the bet must have felt pretty confident about his ticket."

"I can't you made bets on me again, Shinji. But, whatever. You go on ahead while I try to avoid being outside in the very real Dark Hour where I don't know what the hell would happen in it."

"Awww, big tough bruiser of the ring a scaredy cat? Of a couple of measley coffins and the boogeymen jumping out of shadows?"

"I may be a risk-taker, but I'd rather know what I'm going against rather then go forward blindly."

Shinji scoffed. "Like that hasn't happened before. But you're coming with me to the back alleys."

Akihiko looked at him incredulously. "Why?"

"'Cause I probably need a big tough bruiser around while I'm collecting."

Now it was Akihiko's turn to mock. "Now who's the scaredy cat here?"

"I'm thinking practically. Some high school punks hang out around there and I don't want an ambush waiting to happen by a bunch of dimwits who'd pull a fast one. If they'd did, I would bitch-slap them and roll them down a hill in a trash can. Since you're my moral compass, you'll have to stop them from making me do so."

Akihiko sighed irritably. "Fine. As long as it doesn't take up too much time."

* * *

part two coming eventually. Babel has two meanings, and one of them is a homophone.


	8. The Ziggurat of Babylon Part 2: Language

This was a long time coming, so I'm very very pleased that I finished this chapter. I want to give props to PreseatheKitsune, who is now my beta with her first job being this chapter. I recommend reading her works.

Note: Castor is one of the Dioscuri twins, his other being Polydeuces or his Roman name Pollux. Their origins, like many Greek myths, have different variations. One of the more popular beliefs is that Zeus fathered them by taking on the form of a swan and their mother, Leda, produced two eggs, which are the twins. Another is that the whole Swan-thing never happened, but Zeus did have a go with Leda. Castor was supposed to have been fathered by his mortal father Tyndareus, so he is mortal, and Polydeuces took on the genes of his other father, Zeus, granting him immortality. And the rest, as they say, is history.

1. Castor and Polydeuces are both gods of sailors, particularly the shipwrecked ones, so I made note of that in Castor's intro. Also, while both are patron gods of the same things, it's generally accepted that Castor is more of the patron of the calvarly, or horsemen, and that Polydeuces is the patron of boxers. Both are also good in those aspects. They are brothers of Helen of Troy as well as half-brothers of Timandra, Phoebe, Heracles, and Philonoe. Well, if you want to get technical, they are half-brothers of all the heroes that Zeus has fathered, but who's counting?

Note: The tower of Babylon symbolized the overwhelming pride of humanity, who built the massive tower as a means of reaching the heavens and communicate with the gods (back then, everyone spoke the same language). Of course, the Big Guy ain't happy with that and so struck down the tower and confused their tongues, which is how the origin of languages came to be.

* * *

The Ziggurat of Babylon (Part 2): Confused Tongues

_"Then they said, 'Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.'" (Genesis 11:4)._

_

* * *

  
_

"Man, I cannot believe how much time that took," exclaimed Shinji.

Akihiko stood like a crooked cane, with his hands on his knees and his mouth heaving in exhaustion. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the moisture near his lips caused by a combination of sweat, spittle, and dried blood that came from a cut on his lip. He gave a calming sigh and looked up; the moon became the characteristic high point in the sky that cold weather had a habit of making. He coughed a bit to relieve the strain in his throat from breathing so hard and sniffed. He looked over at Shinji, who at the moment was warmly receiving a person by holding him up by the collar and propping him up against the wall like mounting a stuffed animal trophy to its designated spot in a lodge.

"H-Hey, take it easy! I was, you know, just, uh… just horsin' around! So, l-let's let bygones be bygones and, uh… Please, not the face!"

Akihiko could just imagine Shinji's sneering face as his friend started laughing lightly while shaking the poor kid against wall so that the back of his head made contact with the brick. He knew that he should stop him, but seeing how much of a weasel that thin, greasy-haired midget was when he let loose his goon squad at them, he stayed put until the right moment to intervene.

"Shut up," said Shinji curtly. "Your whimpering makes me want to throw you into the bay. I'm a pretty tolerant person, but I'm not sure I can stomach what you just pulled. I'm not talking about those half-assed hired muscle you round up to put me into my place. I don't give a crap about them, and I'll have you know that I always make sure that they won't ever have a reason to give a crap about me. But what I really can't stand are spineless welchers who aren't man enough to admit their own bad luck."

Akihiko rubbed his sore knuckles and stared at the two thugs lying prone on the ground; some parts of their clothes were ripped and displaying the angry red of road rash. The more severe injuries- namely those afflicted towards the nose, eyes, mouth, cheekbones, forehead, hairline, and whatever's left of the face- were spared from a casual glance by permitting the ground to get to know them better. Upon arriving the dark underbelly of Port Island, which can be entered by going down the stairs next to a chic café that revealed the back alleys and back entrances of bars, modest gambling parlors, and random nooks and crannies for young people with drifting minds and rebels with fake causes, Akihiko was rather relieved that there weren't many people giving them the evil eye and sizing them up like being apprised for butchered meat. Shinji led the way like it was a casual stroll down the main street of Iwatodai, with the gambling dens being the counterparts of metropolitan theaters and the seedy bars were the cousins twice removed from Escapade or the great ancestors of Chagall's. Akihiko was a little unnerved by his friend's chevalier attitude, slowly making wild fantasies of some hidden dark side that Shinji didn't bother to show simply because he wasn't in places that would allow him to show it. It looked like second nature. But then again, it could just be that Shinji, like he could be with many things, didn't care or made a big deal out of it. He reasoned that, maybe for Shinji, by making a potentially dangerous place a big deal, it would eventually evolve into a very real big deal. So, Akihiko tried to relax and adopt Shinji's non-big dealing of things, comforting himself that at least he knew how to defend himself and that he's smart enough to leave a very unfavorable situation as long as his prideful self didn't act up.

Unfortunately, regardless of what he thought, it turned into a big deal.

As they approached their place of destination, Akihiko had noticed how empty the location was. He once had the privilege of being here, but that time it was because he had to fetch someone from his dorm, who resembled Hiro quite a bit (now that he thought about it, it might actually have been him), had strayed into this neck of the woods by the classic tourist entrapment that was peer pressure. As he recalled, there were would-be tough guys sitting on the steps leading to a bar, while more risqué-dressed girls stood around them like leeches looking for the next "big" guy to suck up to. He had found him standing next to a few guys looking very uncomfortable and awkward. When Hiro spotted him, he immediately called out his name and ran towards him. The three guys that were with him sneered at the newcomer and were about to gang up on him when one of them actually recognized him and told the others to back off. For once, he was grateful that his reputation preceded him.

The area had been empty when he and Shinji first got there, save for three people: two shifty-looking guys who looked like they had better things to do, and standing in the middle was a diminutive kid who, to his surprise, was wearing a high school uniform and a weasel face cracking a nervous smirk. Akihiko began to think this wasn't going to go in a good direction, but Shinji being Shinji didn't let it faze him and brought up their bet.

"Actually, I heard that your guy cheated."

Akihiko scowled darkly at that statement.

"Your squinty eyes must have impaired your vision, because that big lug from your middle school alma mater looked like the guy pulling the fast ones," Shinji retorted.

"I beg to differ," weasel-face wheedled. "Because the way I see it, your guy was like a monster in the ring, swinging his arms around like a 400-pound gorilla. No 3rd year middle schooler has that much strength to do primitive plastic surgery. It looked mighty suspicious to me. Like he did something more than just after-school practice for the fight. _Supplementary lessons?_"

Akihiko didn't bother to restrain himself from gritting his teeth.

Shinji likewise couldn't help but give amused sniff at the statement. "Wow. Sorry, but it's actually hard to imagine that stubborn idiot taking 'supplementary' lessons, as you put it. He's the type of guy who actually makes an effort in whatever he does, just so he doesn't have to do any more unnecessary things. Unlike a lot of guys I know."

Besides him, the two shifty-looking guys began to eye Shinji dangerously instead of keeping their detached facades. The kid's face was pinched tight with a frown and then finally gave notice to Akihiko.

"Who's the chump?" he sneered.

"A concerned friend," Akihiko replied stiffly.

"I just dragged him along for the ride," Shinji shrugged. "But we're here on business. We made a deal and you lost. Are you going to fork the cash over or not? If you don't have it now, you can pay me later instead of trying to talk your way out of it."

At that point, the creeping feeling of being out of place took complete hold of him and Akihiko really wished that he was anywhere but here. He looked at his watch, his paranoia growing when he saw the short hand on eleven and the long hand a disturbing distance past twelve. He tuned out the increasingly shady conversation between his friend and the scrawny high school kid, looking around at the dark alleys and staring blankly at neon signs and grown men swaggering unevenly in the distance. He pulled up his collar when the cold wind picked up and grimaced at his numb hands in his pockets.

When he heard the smack and saw Shinji clutching his jaw and one of the guys was gripping his hand in pain, time fast-forwarded for Akihiko. There were garbled shouts and curses flying as fast the fists where and like in the ring, all he could focus on was where to hit and to whom.

Which brought him back to where he was now: tired, cold, sore from the newly acquired surface injuries stacked with the old bruises from earlier in the day, and holding Shinji by the shoulder to stop harassing the high schooler.

"Shinji, let's just stop it right here and go back home. The guys at the dorm are going to wonder where we are and I don't feel like getting expelled right when we're about to graduate middle school."

"No, Aki. We finish this right now."

"We?!" Akihiko cried out indignantly.

"Yes, 'we!' The minute you raised that fist was the moment when you become 'part of this.' Either we get this over with now or we're going to regret it later. We have to show these guys who's the top dog here or else the people around here aren't going to mind their own business if there's a next time we come down here." Shinji noticed something out the corner of his eye and turned his attention away from the bruised and fuming Akihiko to fumble through coat pockets.

"There's not going to be a next time, Shinji," said Akihiko. "This is the last time you're going to gamble with 'other people'… and on me." he added. "I don't feel up to bailing you out of jail in the future."

"Well for your information, Aki," Shinji began, exclaiming 'bingo' as he found a leather bound wallet and released the upperclassman's collar. "This was actually my first time being down here to do a transaction."

Akihiko took a step back and peered at him with raised eyebrows. "What?" he exclaimed.

"Usually it's with some meatheads at school that I'd bet cheap change on you, and sometimes with girls who would bet some money to win a date with you- they somehow think I can convince you to agree meeting them, psh, freaks- but then this _high school_ guy-" He rolled his eyes heavenwards at their technical senpai's educational title, and pulling some money out of the wallet. "-Wants to show off his money and school spirit by betting against you. And lost. And I came here because he usually hangs out around here with some cling-ons. So it's pretty much our bad luck that we got tangled up in this mess."

Akihiko blinked while Shinji busied himself with counting the money. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but couldn't. He thought it over, then closed his eyes in defeat and sighed, feeling the cold atmosphere seeping into his bruises and scrapes.

"Glad you finally see things my way, Aki," quipped Shinji, having finished counting and putting the bills away inside his jacket's inside breast pocket. He was gracious enough, Akihiko noted, to not take all of the wallet's money and put the change back inside. Shinji tossed it to the crumpled form of his gambling accomplice, who was shaking on the ground whether due to the cold or in fear, and said, "Well, good to see that we've come to peaceful understanding. Now I never want to see your face again, got me?" He gave an about face and walked away from the scene. Akihiko wearily following suit.

*

"Shinji."

"Yeah?"

"Shinji."

"Yeah?"

"_Shinji."_

"For god's sake, just say it Aki!"

Akihiko angrily pointed at the dark train station. "The last train is gone!"

Shinji shrugged nonchalantly. "Uh, yeah?" Akihiko rubbed his eyes with one hand in response. "Come on Aki; it's not the end of the world." Akihiko stuffed his hands underneath his armpits for warmth and shivered in the cold winter air as he glowered at his friend.

"Being out here at-" he looked at his wristwatch. "-11:45 is _not_ a convenient time for me."

"Well, we can always explain to the dorm master that we got jumped by a couple of guys on the wrong side of the tracks, and that is the truth."

"That's not-"

"You actually expect me to believe that you're going to be all alone out here with a bunch of coffins ten minutes from now?!"

"No!" cried Akihiko. He looked away sheepishly at Shinji's disbelieving stare. "…Well I expect you to at least think about it!" Shinji tilted his head heavenwards and beseeched the stars for guidance with tired eyes.

"Fine. I admit that I'm beginning to suspect something when furniture suddenly rearranged itself within one minutes while I'm in our room and that I see you sitting outside in the hallway when half a second ago you were lying on your bed. But I think I would feel something if I were "sleeping" inside a coffin. Or see evidence of blood dripping from the walls and on the ground."

"Okay then, don't believe me. I probably have superpowers that came after I witnessed a solar eclipse. So I might as well use them to defend myself in my make-believe world." Akihiko looked around the train station and spotted a man in a hat standing near the stairs. "I'm going to get us a cab; maybe if I pay more the driver'll get us back home in five minutes or something."

Akihiko came back to Shinji after talking with the uniformed man briefly and waited a few moments in silence until the sound of a car approaching came to their attention. As Shinji reached for the door, Akihiko brushed past him and took his friend's seat. He scowled slightly and walked around the back to the other side.

"Oh… wait. Sorry about that," said Akihiko sheepishly after Shinji closed the door. "I just went in without thinking so…"

"Whatever," Shinji replied curtly, though his shoulders and eyebrows relaxed a bit. "I guess I should be used to that by now."

They sat without saying a word, too tired and too sore for any more conversation. Akihiko looked out the window at the dark bay with streetlights in the foreground flashing by, his perspective broken in intervals as he glances at his watch every now and then. 11:52… 11:52…

He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his cold cheeks and eyes, wincing as his blood circulation coursed through his numb, swollen flesh where he had been hit repeatedly throughout the day. And what an exhausting day it was: winning a boxing tournament and earning scholarship money, being approached by a girl who's a celebrity at school and giving him information too out-of-this world to not believe her, finding Shinji, beating the crap out of people because of Shinji so now he's feeling fresh bruises atop of fading, tense, not so fresh ones.

11:55… 11:55…

He looked outside at their surrounding area. They're not even close to Paulownia Mall, let alone out of Tatsumi Port Island. They might have passed Gekkoukan High School, though.

Akihiko leaned forward to the driver. "Excuse me, sir. How long do we have until we cross the Moonlight Bridge?"

"Mmmm… Fifteen minutes," mumbled the driver. "Maybe a little less than that. The traffic's good now, since it's so late out. What're two high school kids doing out at this hour."

"We lost track of time," Shinji cut in sleepily. "And we're not high school kids yet; we're graduating middle schoolers."

"'Lost track of time?'" echoed the driver. Akihiko saw the driver looking at them with raised eyebrows through the rearview mirror. Their dirtied and tattered clothes, puffy faces, and general sullen demeanors offered little to the imagination of how they might have lost track of time. "You two look like what the cat dragged in. What, did you get in trouble in the alleys behind the train station? My god, don't you know how dangerous that place is?! Why, back in my day if hoodlums walked around with their three-colored hair or ten piercings and the girls wearing skirts short enough to show their unmentionables- and at this hour?!- why, the law would beat them with their tonfas so they can walk on the straight and narrow! It's shameful, I tell ya- shameful!"

Shinji rolled his eyes at Akihiko, who rubbed his temples gently as the driver's rant began to make his head throb.

"I saw you look at your friend like that, young man! Take heed of what I say: the youth of this day and age are making this country go down to the dogs! Why, I always thought that young people would use their vitality and smarts imparted by the older generation to bring a better world, not this state of apathy. Why, it's deplorable! I feel that all my hard work's been for nothing; my daughter doesn't talk to the missus and me anymore; my son's moping around because he's only above average and all his friends are straight A students who try half as hard as he does. I mean, he's not failing so why's he got to do nothing around the house but sigh and give me that hangdog's look?"

"Maybe he should try a sport," suggested Akihiko. Shinji gave him a dirty look that disapproved of his involvement, and Akihiko mouthed "What?" in response. The result of his advice bore fruit.

"Exactly! That's exactly what I thought. I kept thinking that maybe he should join a track team or maybe take up judo. Expel all that restless energy into something useful instead of moping around. Sports make men, and I don't know anything better. You learn how to have good sportsmanship, be more honorable, and most of all, discipline! I'm not talking about hitting people with sticks like in kendo; I'm more of a "use your body as a weapon" kind of person. See, you think the right stuff, kid. I don't know how it is that you got mixed up with a bunch of hooligans behind the train station. Now let those bruises and scrapes be a lesson to you: only get mixed up with the bad crowd because they keep bugging you and you got to show 'em what's what. Now take my daughter's case-"

The driver's voice was cut off, prompting Akihiko to snap his eyes at him in alarm. His heart leapt to his throat when he saw a black coffin replacing the middle-aged man in the seat. He instinctively turned to Shinji but startled himself when he saw another black coffin next to him. In a panic, he realized that the vehicle was still moving even though the driver was incapacitated and fumbled with his seatbelt. He also realized soon afterwards that the car was not careening with reckless abandon straight into the truck in front of them but rather had slowed to a stop just past the intersection where they stopped before a red light a few paces behind. Akihiko took a deep breath and sighed in relief, praising the remaining logics of physics and promising himself that he will provide a greater appreciation in that field of education. He unsnapped his seatbelt and opened the door to the outside.

The first thing he noticed was the silence. All the sounds that had encompassed him outside everyday were gone. The humming from electric power lines was absent; cars that rushed through the night air were stilled; and whatever the outside noises that were around, such as animals barking and mewling, the water lapping against moving ships and objects bumping in freights and trucks, the people that stalked the concrete roads in pursuit of reflection or a warm home to go back to, were cut off as cleanly as pulling the plug of a pair headphones to a music player. This was different compared to the muffled, claustrophobic atmosphere of a dorm building, where the silence is so thick that it rings in his ears. Out in the open, where the wind would call out from several streets away and the murky night sky seemed more like an empty maw about to swallow the city whole, was where Akihiko had never so exposed and more aware of his own existence than ever before.

"Hey Aki-"

Akihiko screamed in surprise and jumped away at the sound of Shinji's inquiry. Shinji likewise became startled and screamed while accidentally hitting the top of his head with the door frame.

"Shinji! Wha- How- What are you doing here?!" gasped Akihiko.

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here?' What is a coffin doing sitting in the driver's seat?!" Shinji bellowed and pointed at the luminous object which defied the laws of space and mass by fitting quite nicely inside a sedan vehicle, his other hand rubbing his head ruefully.

"That- I- guh- Y-Y-You were a coffin!' Akihiko half declared, half yelled. "How did you turn back to normal?"

"Quit screaming at me!" screamed Shinji. He cleared his throat and tried to say in a civil and hoarse tone, "What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Akihiko ran his hands nervously through his hair, gripping it at the roots and letting his arms drop, now significantly calmer. "We're, uh… We're in the Dark Hour."

"The _what?_" Shinji asked sharply.

"Didn't you listen to a word I said when I told you what that Kirijo kid told me? We're stuck…" Akihiko began slowly, enunciating his words very clearly. "…In a time… and place… where people turn into coffins… and-"

Akihiko stopped talking suddenly, his throat closing as his ears picked up something so fleeting that he wondered if he heard anything at all. He wasn't alone in his suspicions as both boys broke eye contact and listened carefully with their eyes, their bodies immobile.

"Did you hear that?" Shinji asked in a hushed voice.

"Uhh…" replied Akihiko. They started when they heard the same noise more audibly and clearly. It was a squirming sound, like when wet rubber gloves made when washing dishes, though the noise seemed to creep towards the pair at an alarming rate. He couldn't discern which direction the noise was coming from, even though the entire area was devoid of any excess sound aside from the two boys' own racket. Akihiko's gaze focused on the space between the ground and the cab as a way to strengthen his concentration while Shinji stepped out of the car and stood in front of his friend, his eyes darting in all directions.

The sound came again, much louder this time, and they both looked down the street. Akihiko's heart leapt in his throat and unconsciously took several hasty steps back. Shinji gave a harsh gasp and backed into the car, his back pressed against the frame, his finger pointing at the object and in a squeaky voice declared, "What the heck is that?"

Looming in the distance in the direction of the Gekkoukan High School was a tower.

But is it? Akihiko thought simply amidst his bewilderment. Though they were definitely a ways away from its base, he could see that the "tower" seemed to consist of various buildings merged together awkwardly like wisdom teeth; oval-shaped panels with two circular spaces were set apart, as though making an absurd caricature of a face, were placed on the façade as though playing out the role of billboards atop rooftops. There appeared to be beams hanging of ledges and sticking out as flagpoles in the shape of hour hands, and the whole building casted an eerie glow that illuminated a large portion of the sky. Actually, he had been wondering why, when the streetlights weren't working and there was no electricity powering through buildings and the landscape, he was able to see things fairly well and not groping around in the pitch-black.

"Aki, what was it that Kirijo mentioned when she told you about the… uh… the _Dark Hour_?" Shinjiro asked in a hushed voice.

Akihiko cleared his throat and moistened his lips. "Well, I don't think that she mentioned… that." He gestured towards the tower.

"That's not what I meant. Didn't she mention something about how in this place there's- whoa! Ah- AACK!"

Shinji fell down in heap, alarming Akihiko, and both saw to their horror a black hand wrapped firmly around Shinji's ankle.

"Ah! Jesus Christ! Wha- geh- Get it off me!" Shinji scrambled onto his knees and desperately tried to kick the hand away, his cries mixing with ragged breathing. Akihiko snapped out of his shock and rushed to his friend's aid, stepping on the hand without a second thought. A piercing screech was heard, startling Akihiko, and the hand quickly pulled back under the car. Shinji backpedaled away from the vehicle, his eyes wide and fear etched across his face. Akihiko pulled his friend up to his feet, his eyes not leaving the bottom of the vehicle. The squelching noise that they had heard before was under the car.

"Aki… It _touched_ me." Shinji's voice cracked a little.

"….I stepped on it…" gulped Akihiko. They both winced when they saw _two_ black hands reached out from under the car and groped on the ground. A pair of glowing red eyes soon greeted them, lighting up when it locked eyes with the two boys. It began to crawl a little faster towards them. Both boys backed away accordingly, their feet on the verge of taking flight.

"Akihiko… W-What did Mitsuru Kirijo c-called them?" stammered Shinji who was beginning to laugh nervously, which was the closest to being hysterical as Akihiko had ever witnessed.

"A S-Shadow?" said Akihiko, then squawking in alarm as Shinji grabbed his arm and ran full-tilt away from the creature.

"Run for it!" screamed his friend.

In Shinji's haste, Akihiko started over his feet before gaining momentum to tear his arm away from his friend's clutches and ran at his own pace.

"Woah- Hey AKI! You better not leave me behind!" panted Shinji when the boxer sprinted past him. "You're the punch-before-you-think guy- YOU SHOULD GET BACK THERE AND KILL IT LIKE A MAN!"

Akihiko blinked when Shinji gained the lead, and started to redouble his speed. "Well, *Gah* what happened to *pant* the tough guy that you usually are?! Is beating up small fries all you've got?!" he demanded.

"Well *wheeze* you're the trained fighter, dumbass!" wheezed Shinji. "But I guess I should have known better than to *pant-pant* depend on a kid who fights for _points_!"

"What?!"

"You heard me! 'Tap-tap.' Bop a head for tech points. That's all your fists are good for anyway!"

Akihiko reached out for Shinji's elbow and forced both of them to stop. Shinji yelped in surprise and collapsed on the ground from the sudden impediment to his velocity. Akihiko leaned heavily against a streetlight, struggling to catch his breath. He felt his blood pounding hard into his head, making him clench his temples to assuage the coming migraine. He stopped breathing for a moment when he began to feel light-headed, and gasped, now feeling more or less normal and not so fatigued.

He walked towards Shinji, who lay panting on the ground, and bent down next to him.

"Hey, where are we?"

Shinji coughed a little and replied, "Why are you asking me? Go look at a street sign or something."

"Well you're the one who dragged me off and ran for our lives!" retorted Akihiko. He got up on his heels and looked around. To his surprise, he found that they were much closer towards the tower than they were before.

"Hey…" began Akihiko. "We were near Paulownia mall when we stopped, right?"

"I guess," breathed Shinji.

"I think we ran all the way to that high school from there!"

"What?" Shinji got up quickly and looked around, then winced and clutched his head. "Urgh… blood rush," he groaned. "We just ran a whole mile and we're basically back to where we were? God damn…"

The wind whistled through the streets, chilling them straight to the marrow. Akihiko placed his hands under his armpits, stamping his feet impatiently against the cold. His attention drifted back to Shinji, who sneezed, and focused on the backpack on his back.

"Hey, you brought your backpack?"

"Uh, yeah?" Shinji took off the backpack and handed it to Akihiko's outstretched hand. He unzipped it and reached deep inside, his fingers having found the handle of the (fake) weapon and curled around it. Shinji made a startled noise as Akihiko pulled it out, bright metal gleaming in the glow of the tower, the S. E. E. S. initials embossed on the barrel becoming legible.

"Do you think it works in here?"

"I don't know," replied Akihiko, his left hand around the handle and resting the barrel in his right. "When I tried it out, it only made a really loud noise. I don't _think_ that did anything then, but it sure scared the crap outta me."

"Well, try it out. Maybe it'll do something different since this isn't the-the uh….The...Since we're not at a _normal_ time."

Akihiko took another long look at the Evoker, turning it every which way that's not pointing at his face to see if there's anything different about it. But it still seemed like a very realistic gun to him. Maybe if he pulled the trigger, something other than noise might happen.

"Hey don't point it at me!" yelled Shinji.

"Wha- Ah! Sorry!" Akihiko hastily pointed it away from his friend. "I wasn't… paying attention…"

Shinji placed a hand on his chest, panting hard from fright. "Geez, that took a few years from my life. That's it. You stick to your fists, and nothing else! That's an order from your manager."

"Tch. I'll be more careful next time."

"Can say that after you accidentally killed someone? You know what, maybe I should use it."

"_What_?" Akihiko put his gun-ladened hand behind his back out of sight from Shinji's outstretched hand. "Wai- Hold on! Mitsuru Kirijo gave it to me. So that must mean that there's something about me that can only use this for some reason."

"Well, isn't it because you're able to enter the 'Dark Hour?' Well what do you know? I'm walking around wide awake in the Dark Hour! That means I can use it too, right?"

Akihiko was aghast. "But Kirijo gave it to _me_."

"Well I think you're using it wrong!"

"I haven't even tried it out here yet!"

Shinji snorted indignantly and looked at Akihiko expectantly. Akihiko gave him a side-glance before turning away from him and pointing the Evoker down the street.

"I'll try shooting at that trash can next to the bench."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shinji moving a few steps away from him for good measure, which was fine with him; he took a deep breath, held it, and prepared for whatever that may happen. He squeezed the trigger.

Like before, the sound of the gunshot made him flinch, his blood pounding frantically throughout his body. The shock almost made him weak in the knees, but he somehow managed to not react as harshly as before. Akihiko opened his eyes and looked at his target. He blinked again, thinking he was still in a state of shock and not focusing right.

The trashcan remained as an unharmed trashcan.

Shinji walked towards the receptacle and bent knees, scrutinizing the cylinder every which way and that, looking behind it and even peering down inside it. Akihiko frowned when Shinji straightened and glared at him, and braced himself as his friend walked towards him.

"I think you missed."

"Ah- No way!" cried Akihiko indignantly. "I was looking right at it when I shot it."

"That doesn't mean you can actually hit something," Shinji gestured towards the unmarred trashcan.

Akihiko scratched his head, thinking hard. "Well, hey, maybe this thing doesn't work on, um, solid things or something. Like maybe it works on something that's alive to take effect."

"Did Kirijo even tell you what the thing does at all?" Shinji inquired harshly.

"Uh…

In fact, why didn't Kirijo clarify the Evoker's purpose to begin with? Akihiko rubbed his eyes in irritation. _Why the hell did she have to be all vague about how to use an "Evoker?" I'm in__danger right __**now**__, what the hell am I supposed to do in this kind of situation?!_

"So… you really don't know what to do with it?" Shinji deadpanned. Akihiko rolled his shoulders back, as though he could soothe away the punch-happy frustration that's beginning to crawl over him.

"…No," he said through gritted teeth.

Shinji slowly lifted his hand to his forehead and groaned. Akihiko scratched his ear idly, feeling the tops of his ears burn with the rest of his face. Shinji stretched out his hand once again towards Akihiko, silently begging for the Evoker. He sighed and rolled his eyes, flipping the piece around so that Shinji could grab it by the handle. His friend gave a small triumphant smile and said, "Knew you'd see it my way." Shinji weighed it in his hands, bringing it up to eye level to peer at the line of sight, brushing his fingers on the engraved initials. "Alrighty then; Let's see what this little number could do-"

A sharp sound screeched in the air, alarming the two boys and snapping their heads this way and that to see if they could pinpoint its location. Akihiko looked down towards the street where they had come from, and felt Shinji pressing his back against him looking the opposite way. The screeching noise was just like the sound of a car turning sharply on the street until the atmosphere changed back to its usual, empty silence. Gradually, against the heartbeat in his ears, Akihiko thought that he heard the sound of a car approaching towards them.

Behind him, Shinji gasped and jumped suddenly, backpedaling in shock against Akihiko. He turned around to grab Shinji by the shoulders so that he doesn't fall on the ground, but as he faced him, Shinji held his hands up to his ears, disbelief and shock upon his face.

"Shinji, what's wrong?" demanded Akihiko. Shinji regained his footing and steadied himself, appearing to not have listened to Akihiko. The boxer raised his eyebrow in befuddlement as he watched his friend look this way and that, suspecting that Shinji was searching for something else other than the tire screeches that howled into the night.

"Did you hear that, Aki?" he murmured.

Akihiko scowled slightly. "Uh… You mean that loud sound from before?"

"No. I… uh…." Shinji scratched his head in agitation. "…Nevermind. I thought that I heard someone calling my name."

Akihiko blinked exaggeratedly. "_That_ would just make our night, wouldn't it-" The sound of running tires grew closer, the thought of whatever it was raising the small hairs on the back of his head. There was a very loud screech coming from the direction of the enormous tower. In the distance, Akihiko could make out a shape charging towards them, something looking distinctly like a front wheel of a motorcycle with an emblem of a lion's head as the fender.

His eyes widened. "He-ey…That's getting bigger…" Shinji yelped in panic and pointed the Evoker with both hands at the approaching vehicle. "Oh, man! It looks like they've already heard the lunch bell, Aki!"

"_What?!_" Akihiko exclaimed.

"When you fired this whosamacallit!" Shinji laid his focus back to the target, frowning deeply at how much it's coming closer.

"You think it'll do anything?!" yelled Akihiko. His eyes bugged out when he noticed Shinji's shaking hands.

"Don't ask me, Aki!" he cried out. "No dumb broad gave me a special gun and walked away. Come _on_, you squirt toy. I'm hoping for laser beams!"

Akihiko quickly put his hands up to his ears, numbly noticing that they're freezing to the touch, watched expectedly as Shinji pulled the trigger. As before, it made a loud bang, but at his approximation, Akihiko didn't see anything happening, or anything happening to the target. Now that it's close enough, he could see that what was rapidly approaching them was a very large wheel with a lion resting upon its rapidly spinning revolutions like a glorified fender. At the noise of the Evoker, the lion reared its head back and roared into the night sky and, to Akihiko's suspected dread, seemed to accelerate even faster.

Shinji looked back at the Evoker disbelievingly and smacked it with his other hand. He held it steady again and fired another shot. And another. He pulled it back and cursed it. "What's wrong with this?!" he demanded.

"Shinji, MOVE!"

Akihiko leapt to his feet and shoved Shinji away from the lion's path. The force sent the both of them towards the sidewalk on the other end of the street, Akihiko's arms flying wildly in front of him to stop from getting his face acquainted with a building. They both collided against the concrete façade of the structure and slid down its side into a heap with Akihiko's left side of his face plastered on the wall and on his knees, bending over Shinji who took the hardest from the impact and lay groaning on his side.

"Gurrrgh…" mumbled Akihiko, looking around with his right eye, his left being obscured by the wall, spotting the Verizon sign hanging from the building ("We Never Stop Working for You") and half of the glowing tower in the distance. He planted both hands onto the façade and pushed himself away, flexing his jaw and tonguing his teeth experimentally. Nothing seemed broken, though he could count on another place to put an ice pack on later… if they ever make it out of here alive, that is. He quickly looked to his right to see where the giant monster wheel was, if it was ever after them at all or if they were just inconveniently placed in its path where it was going somewhere. The giant wheel was actually quite a ways away from them, though he could still make out its hind legs and tail hanging over the wheel, and for a fluttering moment he thought that their troubles were over. As he thought that happy thought, he got up on shaky legs and was about to check on Shinji when, after hearing a very loud and familiar screech on pavement, he snapped his head up and saw that the lion wheel had stopped and turned around to face towards them.

"Shinji! Get up!" He roughly his friend by the shoulders, hard enough to make his head bob up and down with each shake.

"Five more minutes, matron…" Shinji grumbled incoherently. Akihiko, in exasperation, punched his friend awake. "Daaagh! Ugh…" Shinji unevenly opened his eyes and refocused them to meet Akihiko's.

"We gotta run, Shinji!" Akihiko hooked his hands under Shinji's armpits and pulled him up to his feet. Shinji stood on wobbly legs and reached out to the building to steady himself. Akihiko looked back towards the lion wheel and heard something like a loud engine revving up to gain more power. It roared in anticipation and spun its wheel faster, though it didn't seem to move towards them; it took a second to realize that it's also floating in the air.

He didn't care if Shinji was okay enough to run on his own. He grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him around the corner of the Verizon building and half-sprinted, half-dragged Shinji into a running start. They ran a good distance across the block when they heard the lion wheel turn the corner and sped full-tilt towards them. Akihiko took a look behind his shoulder, yelped, and briefly thought that they had met their maker when out of the corner of his eye he spied an alley. He yelled at Shinji and pointed at their possible bastion of escape. He swiftly turned into the dark corridor, almost tripping over his feet at the sharp turn, as well as almost colliding with Shinji who caught on with the idea.

They barely made it for the thin corridor when the vehicle zoomed past them, the force of its acceleration propelling the two boys further into the alley and tumbled painfully against the walls and onto the ground. It was good distance away when the lion skidded to a stop and roared in confusion. Amidst the ringing in his head, Akihiko could hear it going in various directions until the sound of rapidly spinning tire on concrete disappeared in the night. He coughed and pushed himself off the ground, falling back on his haunches in exhaustion. He gingerly touched his face and brushed off grit stuck on his flesh. He backpedaled a bit until his back touched the wall and sighed heavily, panting.

In the darkness, he heard Shinji utter a low moan.

"Hey," Akihiko panted. "You alive?"

"Mmmmm…no," mumbled Shinji. "I'm dreaming."

Akihiko numbly hoped that that was the case. "No… It's real. I'm right here… and thinking… and really feeling like shit… That… doesn't happen… in a dream."

"Ueeerrrhhhh… It's a dream." He heard Shinji shifting around a bit; presumably so that he could sit up since his next words weren't impeded by terrestrial matter. "_You_ thinking? That can't be real."

Akihiko laughed humorlessly. "Well, if you insist that it's not real… then you shouldn't have started running. Maybe getting hit by that thing would have knocked you awake. Oh, wait..." His hand groped to find an empty can nearby, finding its source when his shoulder brushed against something cylindrical when he moved. "Maybe this'll convince you."

He threw the can at the direction of where Shinji's voice came from. He smirked in satisfaction at the uttered exclamation. Shinji sighed heavily and said in a drained voice, "Aww… You ruined my wishful thinking…"

They sat in silence for a while, soaking in all the events that led up this their position. Akihiko couldn't believe he was here, in a pitch-black alley covered in bruises, scrapes, and surface injuries of varying levels of pain, totally exhausted after a mile-long run and a sprint down a block from…

_Shadows._

Mitsuru Kirijo's voice echoed in his blank mind, bringing reality back and focusing his eyes away from fantasy; unfortunately, he felt every single sore spot in his cold body at the same time. He groaned in the back of his throat and struggled back on his feet. They have to leave. Now. It may be the same city it always was a minute, an hour, a whole twelve hours before, but right here he and Shinji are strangers in a strange land with little leeway to defend themselves from whatever came their way.

Like those two floating things looking right at them from the street where they came.

Akihiko made a strangled noise in his throat. He hastily pulled Shinji up on his feet and tugged him on a spirited run.

"What's going on Aki?!" he cried out. Akihiko couldn't spare a breath to explain that they were once again in dire straights, but it didn't seem to matter anymore when he heard Shinji's panicked shriek and didn't have to pull him around anymore.

"Whhhh-ha-ha-hhhhy!?" Shinji exclaimed. Behind them, Akihiko could hear something explode and the way ahead of them was briefly lighted with the glow from a fire. He looked back and saw the burning wreckage of what used to be a dumpster. The floating thing, which looked like an octopus with a book on top of its head (_A floating book?_ thought Akihiko) floated right through the smoke and began to charge something at its center, preparing what could be another blast.

"Run faster, Shinji!"

Shinji yelled in response and both boys were neck and neck in determining how fast they could escape from the crowded alley into the open street. Akihiko took a peek back, and like a slow-motion action paced movie, he saw the thing finished charging up and spurting forth a blast of flames towards them. Without thinking, he grabbed Shinji by the collar and forced both of them to sharply turn the corner down the street. If good luck was in a three-legged race with first prize being "making it out of here alive," its partner was unfortunately bad luck, resulting both boys hitting the hard pavement once again, putting more harm upon themselves to avoid not feeling anything ever again.

However, the race was apparently won and something miraculous happened: the blast of fire from one of the two book-wielding levitating octopi struck the rope of a crane, holding some sort of heavy cargo in order to require the usage of said crane, forcing the unfortunate package to plummet its way to the earth. Where it hit, however, was nothing short of divine intervention as it struck a wooden platform lain upon a wedge where on one end was a wheelbarrow filled to the brim of rubble. Like an anvil dropped on a raised teeter-totter, the cargo box crashed heavily in a cacophony of obliterated contents and propelled the wheelbarrow up into the night sky, sailing across the moon in oblivious freedom, to land in a heap upon the two octopi who floated nearby the two boys.

The fantastic event would surely have converted Akihiko to religion if he had been in normal circumstances, but since he's anywhere but that he'll take anything he gets as long as it didn't involve him being scorched into a burn mark upon the road.

He patted Shinji on the back to rouse his friend up, but found no immediate response. "Shinji," he said. "Hey. What's the matter?" Shinji lifted his head up slowly, his hands uncovering his head.

"What's the matter?" he repeated. "First, I got grabbed by a hand from under the taxi, _then_ we ran, like five miles down the road without looking back. Secondly, the squirt gun didn't do anything except make noise, the same squirt gun that the only person who knew about this more than we do gave us as a line of defense." By now, Shinji had gotten back up on his feet with surprising energy that even Akihiko couldn't muster.

"Thirdly," he continued. "We almost got ran over and incinerated. All the while, _you_ dragged me around like some little girl dangling a stuffed bunny wherever she goes! To me, a _bumper car_ is like a limo ride compared to what I've been through tonight! We have to stop running! No! None at all! I'm …tired! I… have no breath anymore! If we're going to die here, we're gonna die like men and not like hunted animals!"

Akihiko stared at him in alarm, unused to seeing his friend's eyes dart around like a crazy man and stamping around in agitation like a rhino. Shinji's eyes fixated on something on the ground, prompting Akihiko to look at what it was. His enraged comrade stalked over to where the two octopi lay buried under mortar and broken concrete, prompting the relatively more calm and collected person to grow increasingly anxious at what Shinji was about to do. The rhino-boy impatiently pulled off bits of rubble with his bare hands, almost flinging them wildly aside and actually prompting Akihiko to duck at the smaller bits, before he straightened up and hefting a kind of long rod. When he turned around, Akihiko found that he was holding a bus sign. In fact, now that he got a better look around, this was actually one of the stops that were on the route of the bus he took to get to school. They were also not too far away from Paulownia Mall and if they kept walking down a few streets they would be back to the taxi cab where they had stopped.

In retrospect, he wondered how long it had been since they both were trapped outside with no protection in the Dark Hour.

"When technology fails you, you go back to the basics." Shinji hefted his newfound line of protection in emphasis. Where does he get the energy, thought Akihiko. He was the one that dragged his reluctant friend around like a rag doll, so why's he the one who's tired first. He's beginning to understand what Shinji had to go through whenever his friend had to deal with Akihiko's own enthusiasm. A squirming, bubbling sound prompted them to turn to the source to discover one of the flying biblio-octopi had risen from the rubble and spun around some three feet high in the air like a staggering drunk. Before Akihiko could utter anything, Shinji raised his makeshift weapon up high and neatly swatted the monster on its… cranium. The book fluttered open and the floating Shadow dipped haphazardly into the air. Shinji took this chance to land a smart headbutt and proceeded to swing his bludgeon upwards as the finishing touch. The Shadow made a decent arch across the night sky and when it landed some feet away from them it dissolved itself into a puff of dark smoke and dissipated into the air.

Shinji panted in exertion and wiped a hand across his mouth. "Yeah… That'll teach ya…" He seemed to be surprised at his own strength. Akihiko's mind drew a blank, visibly shocked by his friend's outburst. More so, the fact that he had just witnessed some sentient-being get destroyed into nothing.

"You killed it…" said Akihiko, awestruck. Shinji let out a self-satisfied sigh.

"See? We don't have to let some _girl_ hand us a _fake_ gun and then walk away without saying anything important, like how we're supposed to stay alive. 'Just gotta use our heads."

"Yeah… sure," Akihiko muttered, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, while thinking, "_…How can he have the energy to grandstand now after running around town being chased by monsters…?"_

An explosive roar pierced the still night air, making the two boys jump in surprise and look around wildly for the source. Further down the street was their old friend, the Big Lion Wheel monster. It growled softly like a Nascar racer waiting for the signal to tear up the road, and its eyes flashed violently like a speeding taillight when a vehicle turned sharply on a curve; steam radiated from its nostrils and dissipated into the chilly night air, the atmosphere numbing the boys' skin but unable to freeze their hearts beating miles a minute out of acute fear and apprehension.

Just as suddenly as it appeared, it began to speed towards them.

With no time for any sort of exclamation, Akihiko dived to one side of the road to avoid fatal collision, stumbling onto the sidewalk but not kissing concrete. He could feel the wind from when the Lion narrowly grazed him and briefly saw Shinji on the other side of the road, still clutching his makeshift weapon. There was the sound of screeching tires and Akihiko turned quickly towards the scene to find the Lion colliding against the rubble in the middle of the road and flailing about on the surface trying to balance itself from colliding into a heap. While trying to stop itself, the tire smacked onto its side into a particularly large bit of concrete jutting out from the ground, propelling itself into the air before crashing heavily into the ground. Akihiko winced at the sound, sounding very much like a car collision with its inner metal piercing against one another and its frame crushing inwards. It lay upon the road with its axel spinning in the air, a proverbial turtle on its back, and Shinji took the chance to leap forward and bash it on the head.

"Wa-wa-wait! Shinji!" Akihiko cried out in alarm. What were once sure strikes when Shinji destroyed the smaller monster before turned into desperate, hasty swings, his face contorted in a blotted mixture of panic and determined fear. Akihiko wasn't sure whether he should go over to his friend's side or not, his legs turned to stone and his mind numb at the sight before him.

He saw the lion's form rocking side by side, and he shrieked, "Shinji! Watch out!" Shinji stopped his bludgeon in midair, his eyes locking onto Akihiko's, dumbfounded, either he couldn't register his friend's warnings or that he had just realized just what he was doing.

Almost immediately, Shinji jumped back just as the Lion righted itself and called out in frustration. The creature's eyes glowed red and Akihiko instinctively ran to the side of a building and braced himself. It roared once again, but this time there seemed to be a renewed force in it. A sudden gust wind blew through the streets, whipping his hair and his clothes, its force propelling him to shut his eyes and braced himself harder against the building; when he cracked an eye out for a precarious glimpse, he saw to his shock that large rocks and rubble were flying in the air down the street, and amongst them was Shinji.

The wind died down and he bolted out of his hiding place, his eyes locked on his falling friends, berating his legs to run faster.

He almost didn't make it.

He ran a bit too far from where Shinji was going to fall, and screeched to a halt when out of the corner of his eye he saw Shinji's form spiraling down right at him. Akihiko gave an "Oompf!" when Shinji crashed down against his side, slammed against the concrete with his friend's dead weight propelling him across the surface, and lay supine on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Akihiko stared blankly up at the dark, greenish night sky, a wheeze issuing out of his numb lips after several moments of breathlessness. His head was ringing and he could see Shinji lying on the ground, in the space between Akihiko and the Lion Wheel, his face kissing the dirt. His mind was telling him to get up and go, to flee this godforsaken place where they were both running around in circles, running for their lives, running for things that still made sense in this world- if indeed this was still their world. But he was too tired. Like when he fell flat on the ground, it seemed like all the energy he had, the apprehension, the nervousness and frustration of being trapped, was carried away along with his breath and all he could feel was cold, heavy fear settled in the emptiness.

With considerable concentration, he forced himself to tilt his head to the side. Shinji coughed wetly, trying to get himself off the ground with shaking arms and knees. He made a strangled, gulping sound and convulsed, spewing vomit on the ground. After several heaves, he weakly raised himself up so that he was kneeling on his knees with his head held up and turned towards the stalking monster. His hands clenched and unclenched fitfully, as though missing an important extension. Shinji looked around tiredly, and Akihiko realized that he was actually looking for his makeshift weapon. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell him that he's a damn fool and that he should make a break for it, but gasped and heaved instead, not having the strength even to yell. He could only managed a guttural moan at the back of his throat, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

The Lion Wheel rolled slowly up to Shinji, eyes smoldering and saliva dripping from its bared fangs. Aside from Akihiko's heart hammering in his ears, he could hear Shinji's heavy pants, steadily sounding harsher and in faster intervals. He saw his shoulders quaver and was almost rocking back and forth on his knees.

"Shi…Shinji!" croaked Akihiko, barely louder than a whisper. He wet his lips and tried again. "Shin…Shinji!"

Shinji seemed to have heard him that time, because he stopped rocking and clutched his head with both hands, shaking it side to side as though trying to vehemently deny something.

"Shut up. Shut up. Shutup, shutup, shutup, shutup, shutupshutupshutupshutup …" He was hyperventilating now, and Akihiko tried even harder to at least raise himself by his elbows.

"NO!" Shinji bellowed suddenly. "STOPIT! I don't- I DON'T….NNGH! AAAAARRRGH!"

He screamed shrilly and doubled over. Akihiko quickly flipped over and attempted to raise himself up with his knees and hands. Shinji continued to scream, angrily, frightened, and almost painfully. Something shimmered over his crouched form and a beam of light raised up into the sky, as though a spear pierced the atmosphere and rained down shards upon the earth. Clear as day, but translucent enough to see the Lion Wheel stop in its tracks to appraise the apparition, what appeared to be a figure on a horse emerged from Shinji. Akihiko could only gape, openmouthed as the figure's image became sharper and more focused with each slow, passing second. Long white hair billowed from its scalp, black armor dully shining in the moonlight, mounted on a horse without legs of which has a horn sprouted from the middle of its forehead.

And a face that looked like Death.

It reared its steed and proclaimed to all,

"I AM CASTOR, PATRON SAINT OF THE CALVALRY AND THE SECOND OF THE DIOSCURI. THOU HAST CAST MY NAME INTO THE SEA OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS AND I CAME TO AID THOU WHO HAS FALLEN, LOST IN ITS DEPTHS."

The horse neighed in response and both steed and horseman charged through the air straight towards the Wheel. It stabbed through the stokes, causing it to roar in pain as the backbone of the wheel shattered upon the ground. As the monster writhed on the ground, Castor dived down with spear outstretched and cleanly pierced the lion's head, erupting all of its being, the shards of metal from the spoke and the road streaks it made with its tire rubber smeared on the ground, into a black puff of smoke, as if it was all only an illusion.

Akihiko sat dumbly on the ground, not registering what had happened. He heard a low groan and his eyes snapped back at Shinji, who still crouched over the ground with his hands on his head. He no longer seemed to be in pain, but he was still very shaky. And with little wonder, thought Akihiko, since he had almost bought it and had someone or something come out from him and impaled the lion into oblivion.

He teetered unevenly on his heels, his arms swaying a bit to hold his balance, and slowly straightened up to hobble to where Shinji lay, collapsing on his knees when he reached a hand out to him.

"Hey… Shinji…" He coughed slightly to ease his thick and dry throat. "You okay, man? What… What _was _that?"

Shinji seemed to stop trembling when he felt Akihiko's hand on his shoulder, but his voice was raw, hoarse, and shaking.

"Wah…? I… Ah…." He hacked violently, prompting Akihiko to pound his back in alarm. Shinji's breath heaved rapidly, and he quickly clenched his head between his hands in a vice-like grip. "Gahh! Aki…! Make it stop…" he hissed.

"Shinji! Are you hurt?! What's happening?" cried Akihiko sharply. He searched for any wound on Shinji: telltale tracks of blood from his head; any strange way in raising his limbs; an affliction that could be told by looking into his eyes. But all he could see was torn clothing, scrapes, blossoming bruises, and a darting wildness in Shinji's gaze.

"SHUDUUUUUUP!"

Shinji screamed suddenly, jumping away from Akihiko and writhed on the ground in untold pain. The apparition that came from him suddenly turned sharply and gazed blankly at Akihiko. He didn't like that look in its eyes.

The horse shrieked in the night sky and Castor thrust his weapon into the atmosphere, as though declaring a challenge, and aimed its tip right at Akihiko. The boy staggered back at the accusation and nearly tripped over his own feet. He barely dodged the blow and he unceremoniously rolled away from the Calvary God's line of sight, slashing a nasty gash on the pavement where Akihiko had been. He swiftly looked back to see if Castor was charging at him again, but found it stopped right when it lifted its spear from the surface. It seemed confused, almost befuddled at not having gored anything in its path, and drifted away from Akihiko restlessly, as though uncertain as to what it was doing. At that moment, Shinji screamed again, and Castor flew higher into the sky, darting this way and that, examining a billboard sign on one building ("Everyday's Great at Your Junes!") and diving back towards the ground towards a kiosk signboard on the other side of the sidewalk. The horse shrieked again and Castor abruptly turned back and rammed its spear against a building, shattering its windows, the shards cascading down on the black pavement like drops of water.

Nearby, a horrendous roar erupted.

Castor jerked out of the building and paused in the air, as though listening for the source of the roar. A clattering of chains echoed back at them.

A chilled spark ran down Akihiko's spine, breaking out in cold sweat and breathing rapidly. He felt eyes boring into the back of his head, and no matter where he turned he could still feel those eyes on him, ready to swipe him neatly in two. The sound of chains grew louder and an inky paw emerged from the oblong shadows from the alleys where they came from, a pair of deep-set red eyes glaring from a mass of shaggy black hair and curled tail whipping in anticipation. Trailing behind it was a thick, lengthy chain attached to an iron ball with some sort of face on it. It growled softly upon seeing the two boys and bristled from head to tail.

He heard the crunching sound of glass nearby and a sudden spray of shards blew into the air as Castor zoomed out of the shop to run through the other monster. But just as quickly as he appeared, the apparition faded away just before the tip of the spear breached the black lion's forehead. The monster stood frozen, as though disbelieving that it was still alive and breathing, then gave an annoyed growl as it returned its attention on the helpless prey before it.

As soon as he locked eyes with the black lion, Akihiko swiftly glanced over at Shinji, now lying still on the ground, still with his hands on his head, curled in a fetal position. Without looking away from it, he cautiously went to Shinji, his hands on his friend's shoulders, trying to shake him awake. He shook harder as the lion began to approach them, his mouth as dry as sandpaper. He opened his mouth, as if to scream, to cry out, to at least tell Shinji to fucking wake up, but there was no power left to utter anything, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

He looked back at the other lion, red eyes glowing set in a dark mass of shadows, a bare outline of its muzzle protruding from its black fur in the dark night, its claws clicking against the pavement as it stalked closer to them.

Akihiko sat back on his haunches, breathing deep, feeling cold sweat run down his forehead, from the bridge of his bandaged noise, and a pulsing beat beneath his numb bruises and sore muscles. Between his heart beats, he wondered briefly if he's going to die, to die not knowing anything and realizing that for all the fifteen years of his life he had never done anything worth doing, never done anything he had ever wanted to, and that there must've been more that he had wished for in his life than he had thought of before.

He slowed his breath into a shaky sigh, and smiled carelessly, his head thrown back to the sky. So, his number's up. There's no way he could accept it. This whole time, his first time wandering around in the Dark Hour, he had been running and exposing his lifelong friend to danger. He ran away from certain death, he ran away from facing life's pettiness, and he ran away from being a frail, eight-year old boy who can only watch a building being consumed by fire with his only family, his only insurance that he was never a nobody, and here he sat, in a cold, still night, about to be eaten by a monster.

_A Shadow_…

What shit… he thought. Thinking back on the whole night, they had done nothing but move, and can only remember small impressions of the events in small doses: from that building that he and Shinji knocked into to the billboard sign that… that Castor demolished.

He drew a shaky hand to the backpack and pulled out the gleaming Evoker from it. He stretched it out to the lion and tried to pull the trigger, but found that he had lost his strength in his fingers. With teeth chattering, he thought of being chewed between those jagged teeth and almost retched. He thought of his last moments being pieces of meat sliding down its gullet and watching from the mouth's opening the monster approaching Shinji.

He brought the Evoker to his head and tapped the muzzle against his skin, just above his left eyebrow. He had a flash of inspiration and briefly heard Mitsuru Kirijo's voice and pulled the trigger.

There was a rushing sensation in his head, sending him into vertigo, and thought he heard something break, like glass. Before he blacked out, he thought he heard a voice and wondered no more about it.


End file.
